#and her master was also a researcher of Odd Shit

[itstimeforstarwars]

Crack storyline for spectobi

-Ben runs into (Purge Trooper) Cody first, and Cody thinks that Ben is actually the child of Cal Kestis (several old assumptions from the clone wars that never got cleared up means he thinks Cal is Obi-Wan’s kid) (the bad batch is not canon to spectobi)

-Ben runs into Cal Kestis, and, in trying not to give away that he's not Korkie’s child, immediately calls Cal his uncle

-Cal is like,,, 98% sure that Obi-Wan Kenobi is not his father, but, well, it's not exactly like he can check the temple records NOW, and this kid is so damn insistent,,,

-Korkie’s spouse finally catches up to them and they and Cal are very Spiderman Meme about them both being Jedi

-Ben has to do A Lot of quick talking so that Korkie’s spouse does not actually mention that he is Not Their Kid. Korkie’s spouse ends up thinking he is actually, somehow, a clone of Korkie, and so??? technically??? sort of their kid???

-Korkie's spouse and Cal now have the weirdest Jedi in-law situation ever

-Ahsoka senses Bullshit and reaches out to one of the only surviving people who knew Obi-Wan very very well--Quinlan Vos

-Quinlan, thinking this is a joke, is like "yeah obviously Cal was mine and Obi-Wan’s. Did you not see the resemblance?"

-Ben now has to come to terms with the fact that he had a kid with the Duchess he was protecting AND his best friend.

-Bo-Katan is losing her mind. Cere thinks this is hilarious. (jedi survivor is not canon to spectobi)

-When Ezra comes across Old Ben in the desert, Old Ben ALSO thinks this is hilarious and clarifies nothing.

[cider-est]

An Idea for a Talent Swap Au (Spoilers!!)

Thinking about how similar Min and Xander both are + the paralels between the two, I realised that maybe, if they had different circumstances, they could've had each others talents.

And thus this AU was born!!!

I'll just ramble about some of the ideas I had (feat. some doodles i made). Btw if you dont understand my handwriting, I put a description on each image for accessibility purposes :] (let me know if I fucked them up pls!!) (also Im not a native english speaker so if I fuck up the grammar let me know aswell!!!)

Backstory changes!

I was mainly focused on making this as close in character and canon as I could? Like imagine if they had made one different choice and their lives would have changed completely, butterfly effect and shit.

This means that I had to come up with how they even got the talents in the first place and who they were before the killing game. This is what I ended up with!

In this Au, the Chariton incident did not happen, so Xander's family is alive and well. This means he did not have his realisation that school sucks and that Gpa doesn't matter.

As for Min, for some reason or another, (I've been toying around with the idea that she got burnt out) was not able to achieve the Ultimate Student title. We've seen that she can get quite angry about the school system, so I'd imagine she could take her frustration out on similar unjust systems.

Dynamic between both of them

I also think they'd have a very interesting dynamic! First impressions, probably not great! Min would definitely have a lot of pity and compassion for Xander, having been in his situation before. I don't think Xander would be a big fan of that though, after all, in his eyes, Hope's Peak is a great institution which has given him the opportunity to be an Ultimate. I think his position would take Min by surprise, but she could later on understand where he comes from.

Maybe it's just my "Ex Religious Vibes (tm)" but I like to imagine that Xander would eventually disilusion himself with Hope's Peak. Although since they are on a killing game, the odds are low as fuck. The only way for that to happen during the killing game would have to be for Min to talk about her backstory.

However for that he'd have to 1. be willing to listen 2. Min would have to be willing to share her past (which, she doesn't really seem like the type to ""trauma dump"") so yeah;; not gonna happen.

A shame because they'd have a really cute dynamic. Personally I think they would behave kind of like siblings, bickering and fighting, but still caring for each other quite a bit. Feel free to interpret them as you wish though :3c.

Personality, Talent, and misc. changes

In this Au, I wanted them to mostly keep their personality but have them impact the way they tackle their new talents + have some changes due to their new backstory.

Min, since in this au she's very familiar with pushing yourself beyound your limits and its consequences, I'd like to think she would have a more gentle side to her, and remind her fellow students when to take a break (much to their surprise). She wouldn't want people to be as hard on themselves as she once was.

As for her talent, I think she'd definitely be more thorough with her research, and more careful as to who she'd expose and how she'd expose them. She'd read a lot of sociology, psychology and law books; essentially mastering the theory side of her talent. However, due to her intimidating and unrelatable personality, she'd have to work extra hard to rally people and have them join her side.

Because Xander having survivor's guilt is so essential to his character, I wanted to sort of pay homage to that. However, since his family is alive, I replaced it with other forms of guilt. Moreso with the guilt of not being constantly productive that comes from toxic work habits, plus the guilt and cognitive dissonance that comes with participating in Hope's peak's shady pratices and yet feeling like you should be grateful for their generosity.

He still has a very fiery and passionate personality, which he keeps under wraps to maintain his "Very Responsible Ultimate Student" persona. Being so determined, I figured he wouldn't have such a big problem with motivation and procastination like Min, although he, kind of like Eden, would have a problem knowing when to stop and take breaks.

Story changes?

I've not yet given too much thought on how this would change the story and I'll need to do a little but of guessing work. So, if I were to guess, Min would have to be the one to recieve the "kill teruko tawaki" letter and attempt to murder her, while Xander would be the one to stop her.

Her murder plan would probably be much more elaborate than Xander's, but she'd be easily overpowered by an enraged Xander. I don't know what would happen after that? My ideal scenario would be Min giving up on murdering Teruko and they all stay alive but...yeah no. Someone's gotta die and narrative-wise it makes sense for these two to die.

I don't think Xander would try very hard to hide his crime. The solving would probably be mostly figuring out Min's murder plan. He wouldn't straight up admit it, but he wouldn't fight the accusations very much. I think David would be the one to defend him, he'd get really depressed, but hey! Atleast he gets closure in this au :').

Dynamics with the others?

I've not yet thought about how their relantionship with the others would change aside from Xander would probs try not to get into fights (and fail) while Min could be more confrontational but still plenty antisocial. Anyway!!,here's an extra doodle on their thoughts on David.

Anyways that's all I have for now!! If you liked this au, feel free to add on to it or borrow ideas, that'd be hella sick!!! Just give me some credit and it's fine.

Also as a reminder: [[Do not repost my art anywhere else]]

Thank you for reading!!

[faroreswinds]

More thoughts on Totk.

Wasn't the Master Sword fully restored in the last game? Why is the Deku Tree telling me it is only now fully restored? Plus, why did Link go get it? The whole point is that the Hero only needs the blade in dire need. When they went to get the MS, there was no apparent danger that necessitated the use of it. But I guess Link just carries that thing around now.

I still miss the idea of Sages making the Master Sword and not Hylia. :/

Also, the Deku Tree noted that he could feel the Master Sword moving. But er.... if this is a time loop, then shouldn't he have noticed how odd it was there were two Master Swords at some point? That shit don't add up if I'm being honest.

Lmao, there is a side quest referencing Lord of the Rings.

And I found the "It's a secret to everyone!" line! I always love finding that line in these games.

Real talk but the lighting in this game is pretty bad..... Like, truly terrible.

Phantom-Zelda is weird, because she is SUPPOSED to be Phantom Ganondorf in disguise, but then in his infinite evil... tells a bunch of researchers to wear underwear publicly instead of clothes. It made me laugh but like, weird choice bro.

There is a order to the memories and you are guided to find them IN order but like... I'm not going to walk away from a memory I find just because it's not "in order". So here is the current order of memories I have found:

1. Intro scene where Ganondorf awakens.

2. The scene where Ganondorf attempts to send a bunch of Molguda towards Hyrule. Rauru uses his power, along side Sonia and Zelda, to basically laser-blast them in the face. Ganondorf is all "hmmm, I need one of those stones". I don't know how he managed to see the stone from that distance but ok. And of course, Zelda's light is MUCH bigger than Sonia's.

3. The actual "first" memory, when Zelda awakens in the past and meets Rauru and Sonia.

4. The actual second memory, where Zelda realizes she is in the past, and Sonia and Rauru agree to take her to the castle. (They basically outright say that she is related to both of them. How cross-breeding of races work here I have no idea).

5. And now Sonia is apparently dead since Rauru is at her grave. Zelda tells Rauru that Ganondorf is still alive in her time and that they will fail tomorrow when trying to attack Ganondorf. Rauru says that maybe things will go differently since Zelda is here now, and she must be here for a reason.

6. All the Sages... become Sages. Rauru basically handed out secret stones to his favorite people, kek. Well, not exactly, but that is what it kinda felt like.

7. Oops, got the last memory of Zelda holding the Master Sword and hoping it will reach Link in the future (more on that in a second).

Oops accidentally got the MS already. Ok, here is what happened. I straight up could not find Hetsu. I had 100 Korok seeds and mommy needed more inventory space. I figured that if I triggered the events in Lost Woods then Hestu would appear (spoiler, he didn't). Anyways, so I went to the Lost Woods and defeated Phantom Ganon that lurked inside the Deku Tree (nice callback to OoT and LoZ). Now the Deku Tree tells me that the Master Sword is moving, so weird and all. But I figured I would get it later. I managed to come across the "get the fierce deity outfit" side quest and so of course I had to do it. I decided to fling myself up in the air so I can traverse across the land to one of the piece locations faster. Well, it just so happened that Zelda-dragon was flying by as I did this so.... Well, I just had to get it then. I already had the stamina since Botw trained me that you get stamina before heart pieces, so.... Yeah. Oops. At this point I hadn't even done a single dungeon yet.

SPEAKING of Hetsu, he is so easy to miss. He is "technically" on the guided path set out by you by the main quest, but he is still off the beaten path AND he blends into the environment. I missed him entirely the first time I ran by. This is the only thing I actively looked up because I got tired of having 120 Korok seeds and no Hetsu to give them to. Honestly, Botw did this better.

And speaking of NPCs, some NPCs just don't know Link. Hetsu acts as if he never met Link before. Weird. He's not the only one either, actually. But the world feels more alive. I'm constantly running into NPCs that either give me solid advice, give me a little side quest, or hint at cool stuff around the corner. Very well done imo.

OK, let's move on to the Rito Dungeon. The climb to the dungeon was a bit too long, but that last bit where you hop from boat to boat was probably some of the best Zelda experiences ever, especially the last throw up into the air and you can just see everything. Unfortunately, the dungeon was terrible. It was tiny and easy, and it was basically 5 shrine puzzles thrown together. I actually encountered some harder shrines than this entire dungeon.

The boss, though, was a stellar spectacle. Flying in the air with a boss like that was amazing. Easy boss though, it was barely a fight. But it was more spectacle than substance, and sometimes those bosses are ok too.

Tulin, however, is incredibly annoying af. Please stop talking to me while I fight, thank you.

After beating the boss, you meet the past Rito Sage. He has no name apparently, and we don't even see his face. Idk why they basically put no effort into these Sages. We NEVER see their real faces. They just wear past-Divine Beast masks basically. But he tells us that everyone survived the imprisoning war (except Rauru cause reasons) and then Zelda asked him to lend his power to Link in the future.

Overall, pretty decent cutscene. Too bad Link basically didn't react the ENTIRE FUCKING TIME.

Tulin's ability will be useful for traversal though. Very reminiscent of what OoT had planned to do with the Sage Medallions.

[sea-owl]

Y'all the idea of Sakura being the reincarnation of Indra's and Madara's wife mixed with my non Uchiha massacre drabbels

Takes place at the same time Naruto and Sakura unknowingly bypass Uchiha security for the first time.

Kaname Uchiha was the oldest living Uchiha in Konoha. He was a young boy when the village first came about and he has many memories that have been lost to others over time. He has lived a long life and he's thankful to still see what the future holds.

Well most of the time.

Other times like this boring ass clan meeting he wished death would take him.

"So Fugaku how is Sasuke's little gennin team?" Inabi asked once all clan matters had been settled.

Fugaku sighed. "I have no idea what they were thinking when putting these teams together. Sasuke was placed on the same team as Uzumaki bou which makes sense. What doesn't make sense is putting that civilian girl with them."

At the mention of the said civilan girl Itachi elbows Shisui trying to stop the laughter threatening to break out.

Well this is intresting.

"Her parents are civilans?" Setsuna prodded. They all know Fugaku already researched the girl when he learned her name.

Fugaku nodded. "Immigrants from Suna. They came here during the last great shinobi war."

Ah, prisoners of war turned civilians. Those who were not asked back by their village or others who were presumed dead had their chakra bound and were forced to become Konoha civilans. The offical story told is that they were all low level ninja who retired early. Then to force loyalty the eldest child any of these immigrants had had to join the ninja academy. Majority of the kids purposely failed out of the acadmey when their parents revealed the truth. The girl must have learned too late if she knew at all.

But still to place her on the same team as Sasuke and the Uzumaki boy is odd.

"Haruno-san was the smartest of the class and her chakra control one of the best I have even seen in a genin," Itachi said coming to the girl's defense.

Huh, Haruno. Kaname hasn't heard that name in a long time. The last time he heard it was probably before Konoha.

An image of a woman flashed into Kaname's mind. Pink hair decorated with an Uchiha fan hair piece. Finger tips dyed green from her plants. Her clothes embroidered with the fan in a white circle.

Shisui snickered, "She can also can keep those boys in line like no one else too. I wish I was there to see their faces when she mastered tree climbing first!"

Kaname smiled lost in the memory of a different Haruno keeping a different Uchiha in line. Some things never change he suppse.

A knock at the door interrupts. All the men in the room glanced at one another. No one would come unannounced during a clan meeting and they would know if any outsiders would have come into the compound.

Itachi goes to greet whoever was at the door. A few moments later two brightly colored genin follow Itachi towards Sasuke's room.

Kaname recognized the Uzumaki boy, he's hard to miss with his bright orange and blonde hair. The Haruno girl...

Kaname's eyes widen. That shade of pink he's only seen on one other person. Her face is younger than Kaname has ever seen. The eyes are a different color but everything else is Haruka Haruno-Uchiha in a younger body.

Haruka Haruno later Uchiha was a woman erased from history. Both the Uchiha's and Konoha's.

Haruka was from a family of who practiced apothecary. Haruka herself specializing in poisons.

Her family was neutral when it came to the clan wars, selling to anyone and everyone. Haruka apparently was a little shit back in her younger days too when she would request ninja assistance from the Senju and Uchiha clan at the same time for the same mission. Just so she could have young Madara and Hashriama keep her company. Though she never worded it like that.

The stories go that Haruka, Madara, and Hashirama were all childhood friends despite the clans, who met by chance one day. While never quite becoming a ninja she did learn some fighting techniques from Madara and Hashirama who were worried about their friend. Later on she fell in love with Madara and Hashirama was like her brother. After Konoha was built she married Madara, the first and only Uchiha head to marry outside the clan.

During that peaceful time Haruka was more often than not in the company of Madara and or Hashirama. Sometimes Hashirama's wife Mito. If not them then a bunch of the clan children would follow her like ducklings, including Kaname.

They used to love watching Haruka work, and they enjoyed helping her pick plants.

The adults however...

It took a while for the clan to warm up to her as a leader, depsite how handy her posions were. Poisons no one but her could ever successfully make.

When Madara left the village Kaname remembered the whispers of who would lead the clan. Haruka had only glared at those whiseprs.

"Am I not Madara's wife? Did I not vow to protect this clan when I married him? Am I not the lady of the clan?" Haruka would demand. "I am your leader until my husband comes home."

Haruka gained a lot more respect after that. Years of keeping Hashirama and Madara in line prepared her to make sure her clan's voices and worries were heard and not dismissed like Hashirama tended to do with Madara.

It all changed again after the nine tails attack.

Kaname remembers that night well. Eveyone who could fight in the clan prepared for battle. Kaname was only 10 and scared. He ran to his clan leader.

He found Haruka as she was tracing her lips with her pinky finger.

"Lady Haruka," Kaname had cried. "What are we going to do?"

Haruka hugged him. "You're going to go with the other children until it is all safe. I'm going bring back my husband."

Kaname shook his head scared. "The clan needs you!"

"Here." Haruka hands a scroll to Kaname. It was worn and beat up. Some of the edges ripped. It was Haruka's scroll of posions. "You can keep it safe for me until I come back."

Kaname promised to keep the scroll safe. He's done so ever since he was 10.

Haruka did not come back ftom that battle.

Tobirama Senju declared her and Madara traitors. Both killed for their crime in a battle against the Hokage.

In order to protect themselves the Uchiha clan hid any and all records of Madara. No one outside the clan would have a chance to know about him. In the clan a very slect few knew.

They destroyed any record of Haruka. Haruka an outsider married into the clan who wasn't even a ninja.

Sasuke's team came back into sight as they passed by again, this time dragging Sasuke with them.

The Haruno girl had Sasuke by the hand and well well. Little Sasuke was blushing. Come to think of it the stories did say Haruka met Madara at age 12.

Itachi reappeared behind the genin. Fugaku raised a brow at his older son.

"They had a last minute mission and Kakashi sent them to get Sasuke."

The dam broke and the discussion began on how did they not know those two were in the compound?

Kaname ignored them again. His own thoughts going back to the scroll he has locked away. Prehaps it was time to give it back.

Meanwhile in Sakura's head:

Haruka: Ew why are we here Sakura? Why did that brat have to send us with Nauto?

Shachi: Haruka this used to be your home.

Haruka: Yeah well they decided to erase me because of something TOBIRAMA said. Who wasn't wven there! Man I should have - KANAME! YOU'RE SO OLD!

Shachi: Haruka we're dead

[how-masterful]

31 Fics Of Fright

Day 8- Slime of the Season

Simm!Master x Reader

Prompt: Slime

Notes: A very silly fic for a very silly prompt, and also my love of Ghostbusters I think I wrote this thing running on the pure adrenaline from the trailer today- who else is excited?

Warnings: None

“Can you see anything?”

Your voice called over the communicator, a silver disk stuck to the side of his jaw. The connection had begun to muffle the deeper the Master had gotten into the old underground station, your voice laced with crackles and pops like an old radio announcer. All that was missing was the transatlantic accent.

“No sign of the bugger yet, how far down does this whole thing go?”

The Master stared into the deep hole, sprawling and descending downwards, a purple mist exhuming from the cavernous drop. The head of security had attempted to scare you with old tales of people falling in and never stopping falling. The Master was utterly unconvinced.

“It likely won’t head into the deeper caves, it’s scared of the mist.” You said from the TARDIS console.

You’d pulled a chair up to the central console, notes and research sprawled across her surface in notebooks and journals, mic ghosting close to your lips as you listened through a pair of headphones.

“You should be able to corner it in one of the adjacent corridors.”

“And what can I do about beating the shit out of it for stealing my dematerialisation circuit?”

“It’s only a child, Master! Plus, it’s intangible. It can touch you-”

“But I can't touch it. Fine, fine. But I'm still going to kill it.” The Timelord grumbled, huffing as he took steps deeper into the tunnels.

“Remember, that transmitter only works once.”

You’d arrived back from your day trip to discover the TARDIS refusing to take off. Not for lack of trying, the old girl wheezing and groaning, like she was dragging herself off the ground and trying to pull herself into the vortex. A furious Master became enraged to find the circuit had been stolen, the inside of the console coated in a thick, gelatinous green gel. You’d teased that slimer had made his way into the console. A single look at the security footage suggested that you may not have been wrong.

“I’m still confused about what we’re dealing with. Slimer wasn’t real.”

“You humans often get inspired by aliens and don’t even know it. Maybe the director saw one, even in a dream, and thought he’d made it up himself. How do you think they made the Xenomorph?”

There was a terrified silence over the communicator, the Master smiling devilishly to himself.

“What.”

“Oh yeah, stay out of the 8th Quadrant of the Mancalar Planes. Also out of West Virginia.”

The Master smirked at the sound of a pen scribbling on paper, approaching the entrance to the side tunnels, torch held tightly in hand. The beam of light bounced against the old subway tile, the ancient language on the wall just out of the field of the TARDIS translator. Judging from the shape of the signs they were directions, and the Master followed as best he could. His boots crunched against the filthy floor, covered in dirt and dust, his coat hanging down to his calves.

“Ok, if you’re at the entrance you should be able to follow the path through to one of the exit tunnels. They were all blocked off years ago but there should still be the atrium… Master?”

The Master’s com had gone eerily silent, beyond the sound of his shallow breaths. You tapped on the microphone, placing down your pen atop the old subway map.

“Master? Are you alright?”

“When you were looking into this thing, what did it say about species size?”

You scoured over the table, picking up a red notebook and flipping across a few pages.

“It says, erm, that they have a relatively big species but often work in families. Or, um, hold on- ah! They can grow up to 8 foot tall, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Right,” The Master continued, voice wavering with odd apprehension.

“In that movie… with the slimer…” He started, swallowing thick. “When they find it in the hotel… what happens?”

You paused, raising an eyebrow, placing down the notebook onto the surface.

“It um, Venkman finds it and he, er, slime’s him.”

“And what makes it… slime him?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but the statement raised more questions within your mind than you thought possible. You racked your brain, trying to remember the scene.

“Oh! When Venkman sees it, and slimer looks at him.”

There was another pause, the air silent as both you nor the Master failed to speak. You could still hear the Master’s breathing, though the sound had begun to crackle once more.

“Darling…” He said quietly, and a chill spread through your body. He only called you darling when something was very, very wrong.

“Yeah?” You replied. You held your breath awaiting his reply.

“It’s looking at me.”

A reply tried to fight its way out, but was beaten to the punch by the sound of the Master’s loud yell. You could hear the screech of another creature in the background of the com, the piercing wail of the receiver making you rip the headphones from the top of your head.

In an instant the com had cut dead, a loud crash sounding behind you. You whipped around in your seat to see the Master materializing inside the TARDIS, the transmitter fizzing and dying as it clattered out of his hand and fell to the floor. The torch rolled across the grate floor, hitting the edge of the steps, just avoiding tripping you up as you ran towards the Master. He was sprawled across the floor, groaning at the impact of his back. Head to toe, he had been covered in the same thick, green slime that had filled the console.

“Oh my god, are you ok!?”

You cried, reaching down to the Master’s side, the Timelord growling in aggravation. You struggled to hold in your laugh at his disgruntled expression.

“Next time,” He gritted, wiping the slime from his eyes and throwing the globs towards the floor. You scrunched your nose in disgust, the slime sticking wet against the Master's clothes.

“You’re going exploring!”

[camgoloud]

📓📜📚 (And Sixth House, if possible?)

(in reference to the following tag game: “Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.”)

oh ABSOLUTELY it's possible. i can ALWAYS talk sixth house let's go

i've always been really, really curious about exactly what palamedes was thinking immediately after harrow dropped in on his bubble in htn. like, he's been trapped for a while with absolutely jack shit to do except reread a trashy romance novel, he's got to be bored out of his mind—and then he has an absolutely WILD five minutes in which harrow shows up, says a bunch of shit that makes absolutely NO sense, and, immediately before she has to run away from whatever weird creature has stalked her soul into the bubble(?), inadvertently reveals that she must have done—um—something(?) to preserve gideon's soul within her? leaving her in WHAT kind of shape?? and what has she been up to for the past, apparently EIGHT months holy shit???? and what has CAMILLA been up to? etc. etc..... basically i just think that it would be really fun to put myself in the position of Palamedes, Boy Detective as he, with his Extremely limited dataset, attempts to cure his boredom by piecing together the. entire plot of htn oops lol. and also reflects on his relationship with harrow... like. is it the truest form of friendship that has ever existed if you spend a couple weeks sharing traumatic experiences and forming a tentative alliance with the one other person around who’s not a Total Moron to avoid Literally Dying and then against all odds you manage to reunite ages later after one of you has become clinically insane to the point where she’s forgotten you two ever even spoke to each other, and the other one of you has just done eight months in solitary slowly coming to romanticize and possibly question the mere existence of other conscious beings to the point of mental and emotional instability. is it touching and tragically beautiful if the two of you have a super awkward hug and then huddle up together while trying to hold a door closed to avoid Literally Dying Again and your non-corporeal ghost bodies are the realest thing either of you has held in over half a year. personally i think maybe the answer is yes actually

camilla hect assassin's creed au. okay so this one is pretty niche, but like... consider. shortly after the master warden palamedes sextus is (according to most people) killed in a strike by (according to most people) the templar order, sworn enemies of the assassins, camilla hect is being inducted into the assassin order. this roughly correlates with as yet unsent era of canon—the assassins are the boe equivalent, while the templars are the houses. corona has already enthusiastically joined up with the assassins, and she knows something is Up with camilla—namely, camilla's loyalties are a lot more divided than she lets on, because while she's not onboard with templar ideology she isn't REALLY convinced that it was actually them and not someone else (potentially even the assassins...) who ordered the strike that blew up the library in which pal was doing his research—research that would have been damaging for both sides if it ever went public... she's also not fully convinced that pal actually died in that explosion, due to some cryptic notes he'd left behind on the day the bomb went off. so, while she's working with the assassins, she starts doing some side investigations to see whether their story holds up. corona is NOT pleased about this and keeps telling her that what she's doing is dangerous and pointless and she needs to stop, but when has camilla ever listened to advice like that... i actually think it's kind of funny, this is an au i conceived of a couple months before as yet unsent even came out, but now that i'm looking back over my brainstorming doc most of it holds up with canon remarkably well actually. if i thought that more than two people in the world would have any interest in reading the end product i might even finish writing it sometime lol

my pride and joy... the pal vs. ianthe mind fight fic! this one i think i will be a bit more tight-lipped on because i have actually been writing it somewhat-actively and will theoretically be posting it sometime in the relatively near future, although at the moment it's taken a bit of a backseat because i've got holiday exchange things to think about, but... allow me to say one word that may pique your interest: timeloops. well, it's not quite a timeloop fic, actually—but it is in many ways a love letter to timeloop media, in which ianthe tridentarius has a bad time for a long time

thanks for asking! sorry i went on about those first two for SO long—it's just so much fun to talk about these concepts that i may not ever find the time to actually Write properly, but desperately want to show off anyway. hope you found it at least a little bit entertaining!

[fandomlovingfreak]

Glacial Passion (5/?)

Regulus Black/Reader

Rating: SFW, T+

Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage

Word Count: 1998

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?

Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: My only note is that the characters in this fanfiction do some questionable things. This does not at all reflect my personal morals or anything I would do (and certainly hope you would not do). Please don’t read this story if you can’t separate fiction from reality. Fanfiction is for entertainment and should not be something that teaches you to be or act a certain way. Thanks!

Enjoy

***

Regulus is met with silence when (y/n) climbs into their bed after the fight and more silence when she doesn't acknowledge him in the morning, dressing silently before sitting on the balcony with her book.

He glances out of the glass door, watching her devour the words on the worn book. Sighing loudly, he looks back towards the parchment on the desk. He didn't exactly know what to say to Sirius. He knew he wanted his older brother to know about the developments his life had taken in the past month, but how do you complain without sounding entirely pathetic? Especially when your complaining was truly aimed at your own actions and attitudes. Sirius would love (y/n); he was sure he would. In a way, (y/n) sort of reminded Regulus of his brother. She was so adamant about not following the rules that people like them followed. Obviously, she hadn't been able to escape Pureblood society the way Sirius had... He doubted, though (y/n) would have tried. It had to be harder to be a woman in the circles they found themselves in. He honestly couldn't imagine living at the level she was expected to.

It's not like he had any special freedom from the constricting nature of their society, but he could do many things she couldn't while still maintaining his reputation. He could have affairs, he could (but personally wouldn't) abuse his spouse, he could even live separate from her without causing a stir. All these things happened within marriages like their own, and only the women seemed to be ruined by their actions and the actions of their husbands and fathers. 

Regulus picks up his quill, intending to finally start this blasted letter. Where does he even begin?

 Sirius,

I do not have any great excuses for my lack of communication, other than the last month, which has been one of the most hectic of my life. I am unsure what you have heard. I doubt you have a full picture of what my life has become, as I would hope you would reach out to congratulate your younger brother on his recent nuptials if you had heard. 

My new wife, (y/n) Black née (y/ln), apparently checked off the boxes our parents found necessary for the next Mistress Black. Funnily enough, though, I'm not sure they did much research into who she is as (y/n) could hardly be considered the traditional Pureblood bride.

But that is hardly a bad thing; if anything, I find her refreshing, if not a bit maddening at times. I had been somewhat afraid to have a meek and mild wife who would cower under my gaze. (y/n), despite being brought up similarly to us, she seems to have developed her own personality outside of Pureblood society. She isn't bitter or greedy like the other girls. The only piece of jewelry I have been able to give her without argument has been that horrible engagement ring-- you know, the one from mum's side. She doesn't want the things most of these Pureblood girls want. Jewelry and expensive things don't seem to make her happy the way mother said they would.

Even as she is different, I have this ever-increasing fear that I might drive her towards the other's level of bitterness and unhappiness. I will be the first to admit that I have no idea what I am doing with women; this fact has not changed in my marriage. It's become even more apparent that I haven't a clue how I should behave as I've been forced into this relationship.

It has also become clear that Mother's advice has been shit, as every attempt I've made with my bride has been met with annoyance from her. I can't seem to give her what she truly wants. Embarrassingly enough, what she talks of-- craves from me is some sort of romantic connection. This is something I hadn't planned on in an arranged marriage, and I'm not sure if I will be able to indulge her without a bit of deceit. 

Which I would feel horrible for doing-- pretending. 

Last night, like many nights in recent weeks, I found myself in an argument with my wife over this exact topic. Something she said triggered a memory, hopefully, a memory that you have a recollection of as well.

Do you, brother, have any memories of our dear mother when she was-- well, motherly, to say the least. Warm and loving, as a mother should be. When she would admit to us in hushed tones that the love we showed her was the replacement for the lack of love between Orion and herself?

During the heated exchange with my wife, I was struck with that strange memory, and I realized deeply and uncomfortably that I was in the early stages of pushing my own wife towards becoming our mother. Something, I realize now, I cannot allow to happen.

Pushing this girl towards unhappiness when she was forced into marrying me by her parents is unacceptable on my part. I'm completely aware that it is me who is making us miserable. I should be happy, or at least satisfied enough in the marriage to indulge her, to try. (y/n) is beautiful, everything a man could want in a wife. And I do want her. 

Yet, I do not know how to want her the way she is expecting me to. And, I have to reiterate that I don't know how to even-- fall in love, I suppose.

Through my woeful letter, I hope you see a solution to my dilemma. Or at least can offer advice as I have no idea which direction I should go at this time.

Sincerely,

Regulus places his quill to the side, reading over the content of his letter. At times, he sounds like a pathetic child whining, but he hopes his brother can see he sincerely wants his advice.

Very much requires any advice Sirius may have.

None of Sirius's advice could be helpful on the trials and tribulations of marriage per se, but if anyone had experience in relationships, it was Sirius Black. Sirius, who wooed and flirted his way through life, would know exactly how he would be able to win (y/n) over and hopefully form a romantic relationship with her.

Slowly, Regulus gets up from the desk, taking his time to cross the room. Opening the glass door to the balcony, he pokes his head out. When (y/n) doesn't look up, he clears his throat.

She freezes, slowly lowering the book enough for their eyes to meet, but doesn't say a word.

"I'm going to go to the lobby to have this posted." Regulus feels the light pink of embarrassment on the tops of his cheeks.

(y/n) nods once before giving her attention back to the blasted book. Regulus's lips pinch before he shuts the door a bit louder than necessary.

Much to his annoyance, the banging noise doesn't seem to faze his wife. 

He stalks down to the library in a mood, the letter to Sirius gripped tightly in his right hand.

A young witch greets him, asking if he needed any assistance with anything.

"I require an owl. I have a very urgent letter that needs to arrive as soon as possible."

"Okay, if you'll follow me, we can get your letter sent." The witch leads him up to the rooftop, showing him the hotel's fastest owl.

***

A sharp knock on their suite's door startles Regulus, who had been reading the Prophet to pass the time. He gets up off of the room's couch, opening the door to an older gentleman.

"Mail delivery, Master Black." The old man hands him a hastily folded piece of parchment addressed to him in Sirius's messy excuse for handwriting.

"Uh-- thank you." Regulus digs in his pocket, pulling out money to tip the man. They exchange the items, and Regulus hurries over to the desk. Hurriedly, he breaks the wax seal and opens the letter.

 You got married?

Ah, yes. His ever eloquent brother didn't even bother to address the letter, jumping right to the point.

Regulus reads on...

You got married? And I didn't even get an invitation? I'm sort of hurt, but yet again, mum would've been pissed if I showed up. How fun would that have been, though? Me crashing your wedding in my Docs and my worn Led Zeppelin shirt. Mum would've freaked.

We really missed an opportunity, Reggie.

But, wow. You married. That's wild. And she's a bit wild as well? How did you manage to end up in an arranged marriage with what seems like the most unique of the Pureblood lot? Besides me, of course.

I'll have to meet this fascinating (y/n) (y/ln)-- or should I say (y/n) Black? Weird-- I have a sister-in-law. That feels too grown-up and stuffy.

Maybe it feels wrong, mostly because you never dated anyone, or at least anyone I knew of.

The point you made about you knowing absolutely nothing about women is incredibly accurate, I'm afraid, Reggie. The poor girl, I hope you haven't been ignoring her like Orion does to Walburga. But, I'm almost certain that you have been sort of an ass to her by your letter.

You want advice though, do you now, little brother. Here is my advice to you:

I have dated plenty of people in my days-- plenty. If you truly wish to make your wife (what the hell that is so odd to write!) happy, Regulus, you need to get to know her. 

Ask her questions about her likes, her dislikes. What her childhood was like, who her friends are. Even silly things such as how she takes her tea or what she grew up wanting to be as an adult. But you must be prepared to be vulnerable and answer questions she has for you as well. If you can't open up and be vulnerable, you will never be successful in 

A) forming a "romantic connection" with (y/n) and 

B) falling in love with your wife. 

I hope that I have been helpful. My advice is simple, but knowing the woman you promised to spend eternity with is necessary to live a peaceful life. Maybe the whole "happy wife happy life" saying is accurate. Not like I would know, but still.

As for the memory of Walburga you brought up, I do remember instances like that. I hadn't thought about those instances in a very long time. I hope you are successful in your attempts with (y/n). I would hate to see another woman turn out like our mother.

Your brother,

 P.S. Take your wife out somewhere romantic! For Merlin's sake, Regulus. You have to have some romance somewhere hidden within you!

 ***

Regulus decides there's no better time than the present to follow Sirius's advice. Unfortunately, he already used up his one "romantic" idea (really Orion's, but still) with their disastrous dinner the previous night.

His only option would be to find a local who would know of spots he might take his wife to. He reckons the logical locals to ask where these locations would be are the hotel's staff.

The same witch that helped him with the owl still sits at the hotel's lobby desk. She grins widely when she notices he's walking towards her, "Oh! You're back!"

Regulus controls his mild annoyance with the woman as she bats her eyelashes foolishly.

"I wonder if you know any places around the city that you recommend for honeymooners?"

The girl's face falls slightly before she's grinning again, "You're on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, you've probably seen my wife with me," he says, asserting that he does have a wife and that the girl shouldn't get her hopes up, "I'd like to take her out this afternoon, but I'm afraid I know little of the spots couple's usually visit around here."

The witch thinks for a moment, "I think I have a perfect place in mind."

[gale-dragon-writer]

Master List of A/Us and Stories That I'm Currently Working On.

Marked by the Soul (Miraculous Ladybug Soulmark and Young Justice crossover AU based on Cornerverse's Soulmark Headcanon)

Miraculous Tales of Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Cainis (Disabled but Abled AU with Marinette being Autistic, Adrien being Diabetic, and Max being Blind)

They're Twins!?!? (Bio Twins; Marinette and Max AU or Dupain-Cheng Twins AU)

Marinette's New Look (Punkenette LIVES!!! And be careful what you wish for Lila, because now Marinette ain't gunna take any of your shit anymore!)

Miraculous Adventure in Joey Drew Studio (Miraculous Ladybug and Bendy & the Ink Machine crossover. Warning; Horror/Survival)

Miraculous Juuni (Miraculous Ladybug x Juuni Taisen Crossover... I blame the Chinese Zodiac connections on this one, but I like the characters from the Juuni Taisen too much to let this one go)

Paris Dragon Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miraculous Ladybug in the Universe of American Dragon Jake Long. It’s basically Marinette being the Dragon defending all of Paris’ Magical Creatures while trying to survive human school w/o blowing her identity)

Phantom Relations (Danny Phantom “What If” story where Clockwork raises Danny, Nocturn raises Jazz [who is also a Halfa in this], and Walker raises Sam)

Shokugeki no Sōma: Nashi Saito de Chīfu (A Shokugeki no Sōma story where Sōma is blind, also mild crossovers)

Usagi and the Ink Machine (A blended universe with Juuni Taisen and Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Juuni Taisen Chat Group (Title says it all)

Kurīchā Sekai (Creature World). (A Bleach/He-Man/Marvel/DC Comics crossover where hybrids exist)

Juuni Taisen: CSI (Sumino Tsugiyoshi is the newest member of the Juuni Taisen Crimes Labs Team, Codename; Nezumi. He may be young but he's brilliant. Now he has to use both his brains and his ability to help solve crimes, mysteries, and survive the other Juuni Taisen members.)

Juuni Taisen's A to Z Mysteries (It's basically a modernized version of the A to Z Mysteries with the Juuni Taisen Characters. When Alphabetical Mysteries start happening to Tsugiyoshi "Nezumi" and his friends Misaki, Takeyasu, and Nagayuki in their town of Green Lawn, they must solve these Mysteries with their wits and skills before the worse can happen.)

Cybertron A/U Mystery. (Transformers A/U. After the Great War, Cybertron fell into a state of peace especially after forming a treaty with a Planet called Earth. But as we all know, peace is a fragile thing and the unexpected can happen. On Cybertron, a new team will take on these unexpected events, these mysteries.)

Transformers: Disabled but United. (Transformers A/U where there aren't any Autobots and Decepticon sides and the majority of the characters have some kind of disability. I've already made some headcons regarding this but I am going to have to do some more research on disabilities and the range of them before I truly start writing it out)

Amefuto isn't just for Boys (Amefuto's a tough sport, not really something girls would play, right? WRONG! What if some of the amefuto players in Eyeshield 21 were girls instead of boys. Let's find out and let the chaos start. Important notes: rating may change due to Hiruma's mouth, and THIS IS NOT A FEM!SENA FANFICTION. ps, I should really get back to this...)

Juuni Taisen: Bloody Maze. (Just some OCs battling it out in the next 12-year war)

My Miraculous Hero Academia (ML x My Hero Academia [or Boku no Hero Academia to you hardcore fans] I'm still kinda sort of working on this, mostly me trying to figure out who the big baddie in this is going to be since Gab is a decent parent and Emilie isn't in a coma in this A/U)

Along For the Ride (An odd request brings the Young Justice team to a strange village in the middle of one of their biggest events, and the next thing they know Sportsmaster crashes the whole thing. (Young Justice x Juuni Taisen crossover)

Beware the Blue Rose that the Marionette Holds (Uhh, Just a Miraculous Ladybug story with a few Crossovers that are kinda A/Us of existing media... If that makes sense...)

Chaotic Culture (Just me basically rewriting Chaotic [the cartoon based on the card game] with the reboot and fixes ideas that I had posted on Tumblr a while ago)

Miraculously Chaotic (just a Miraculous x Chaotic crossover that's been picking at my brain).

Lila Rossi's Lies are Exposed Fics that aren't Miracuclass Salt! (Tired of having Lila's lies are exposed fics that are oversaturated with Miraculous class salt? Well, here's a series of Class Salt-free fics I wrote to I can prove that it can be done and maybe balance out the Lila's lies are exposed tags a bit). Link to list of stories I plan to work on, (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/gale-dragon-writer/679985357785284608?source=share)

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock (Encanto, but Maribel travelling back in time to the day where she didn't get her gift, but this time around, She gets a Gift and she plans on using it to save her family from the crushing pressures so they can be happier!)

Kid Martian (A Young Justice What If A/U where "What if M'gann took M'comm with her to Earth?". Kinda have season 1 outlined for this) Ninja Chat Group (Just two Ninjas in a Chat Group, and those Ninjas happen to be Snake-Eyes and Storm Shadow).

Boku no Magic Hero (DC’s Jason Blood being the biological father of Izuku Midoriya and there’s Magic. Might need to rewrite this quick synopsis later) Adventuring in Another World (Nezumi finds himself transported to Another World. He finds adventures and unlikely allies along the way) Cursed Tapes (Just a few of the Warriors of the Zodiac going into an attic and finding some videos. What's the worst that can happen?) Abducted into Black (Just a Detective Conan What If fic that's based on the idea "What if... Gin found Conan in the locker")

Stuck within Playtime co (Don’t ask where this came from, because I have no idea! It’s the He-Man characters Stratos and Tri-Klops trying to survive the horrors inside the Playtime Co. Factory while trying to find their way back home).

Detective Conan and Assistant Arthur (Yet another Detective Conan A/U, but where Gin and Vodka get shrunk instead of Shinichi.) American Dragon: Jake Long. Realm of Magic (Just me getting back on the AD:JL train and riding it while adding some more world-building and making it a bit more mature. Expect a few crossover references in this) Quirks of the Cosmos (The last thing the Gold Saints remember doing was breaking through the Wall of Lamentation in the Underworld so that the Bronze Saints could get through to defeat Hades. Now the next thing the Gold Saints knew, they’ve been reincarnated into the world of Boku no Hero with Quirks that match their Cosmic Constellations. How will they fare in this new life?) Inside Playtime Co. (A mysterious package and letter from Playtime Co. are sent to Nezumi’s dad. However, the Warriors of the Ox, Tiger, Rat, Dragon, and Snake decide to venture into the old toy factory that has been abandoned since the disappearance of all their employees a decade ago. Unaware of the horrors still lurking in the darkness inside.) Stars Under Playtime Co. (It’s been 16 years since Deathmask was at Playtime Co… And 15 years since everyone there disappeared without a trace. Despite his resolve to forget, he never could. Deathmask knew he couldn’t. And when the Underworld needs information about that place. Well, Deathmask is going to have to return to Playtime Co. and face his past and find the secrets Playtime Co. kept.) As the Path Shifts (A/U canon divergence where Saga and Kanon are closer and make a plan to go against the ‘Traditions’ of the Gemini Saints w/o anyone noticing. But things don’t always go as planned. And when one thing changes, so does many more things.) I'll add more if anything comes to mind. Asks are welcome on any of these! (I will, however, not give out any direct spoilers)

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Paloma, Part I

Series Masterlist - Part I - Part II

Word count: 4100+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Statesman!Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels, and "You" (OC cis/het female reader, Statesman research analyst, code name “Paloma”; age 26; reader is “blank canvas”/no physical description/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: fully legal age gap; curse words; references to M/F sex; lots of yearning; a little sprinkling of angst; American readers, please be warned that this piece features the absolutely filthy fantasy of Statesman paying off your student loans in full

You left Kentucky on a sunny June morning with a rolling suitcase, six cardboard boxes, and a heart full of golden light. You were ready for the new challenges of your promotion and the move to New York, but it was still hard to quell the little butterflies that insisted on dancing and twirling in your gut. Statesman HQ was like a beacon that had been calling to you for the last three years, and you were half-convinced that the promotion and the move were a daydream; something that would be snatched out of your hands if you thought about it too much.

It was strange to leave Kentucky, your home since you were four years old. You had been raised in a small town about an hour south of Louisville, and you hadn't had the opportunity to leave until college. Even then you didn't travel very far, just to a dorm room at the University of Louisville, going back to your hometown for every vacation instead of flying off to California or Europe like some of your more glamorous friends.

You had put your time to good use, though. You busted your ass and completed an accelerated program in Criminal Justice that earned you both a Bachelor's and a Master's in one go, with a minor in statistics and data science. The result was a deep and abiding love of research and analysis, with the burning desire to do good in the world.

---

The Friday morning of your graduation ceremony, you emerged from your apartment fresh-faced and giddy, ready to walk the stage and start the next phase: adult life in the "real world." You knew that your life was about to change, but as you juggled the garment bag with your cap and gown and tried to lock your door, you had no idea just how much. You heard a soft voice say your name behind you, and it made you jump and drop your purse, spilling the contents across your doorstep. You turned to see a woman of about 40, with flawless terra-cotta skin and an adorable mop of chestnut hair. Black horn-rimmed glasses framed bright, inquisitive eyes. She immediately bent to help you retrieve your belongings, stammering gentle apologies.

"I'm so sorry! Let me help you get your things. I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled sweetly at you and handed you back your sunglasses and lip gloss.

"No! It's fine, I'm sorry I'm so preoccupied." You lifted the garment bag by way of explanation. "Graduation day! Um, how can I help you?"

"You don't know me, but my name is Ginger. I work for an organization that recruits bright young minds like yours. It's a lot to explain, but if you're interested in a job interview next week, we'd love to talk with you." She handed you a creamy white business card with a Louisville address.

You frowned. "Statesman Distillery? I don't have any experience with alcohol production or marketing. I do data analysis and my degrees are in criminal justice."

"We know. We've been following your research and your schooling for a while." She gave you a mischievous smile, and it looked for all the world like she was hiding something fun behind it, something secretive and intriguing that made you want to know more.

"Please, just give me an hour of your time next week? When you have some time to pay us a visit, just call that number and ask for me. I'm really looking forward to chatting with you."

You thanked her and promised you would call, and then you tucked the card into your bag and forgot all about it for nearly a week. Graduation day was hectic, with lots of relatives visiting and interrogating you about your career plans, and the days afterward were spent attending parties and saying goodbye to friends who were scattering to far-flung places. After you had finished the last of your university-related errands like returning a few library books and picking up your official transcript, there wasn't much left to do except putter around your apartment and take a few days off before beginning a job search. Those student loans weren't going to pay themselves off.

You found Ginger's card in your purse on Wednesday morning and put it on the fridge with a magnet. On Thursday you were so hungover you didn't want to make any calls. On Friday you found yourself at loose ends with nothing planned, so you picked up the phone and dialed. When you reached the switchboard you gave your name and asked for Ginger, and they put you right through. She picked up after one ring, as if she had been waiting for your call.

"Hi! I'm so glad you called me! Can you come by today?" Ginger sounded genuinely excited to talk to you, not smarmy or fake like other corporate recruiters you had spoken with.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, yes, thank you. Are you sure today's okay? I can come next week if that's better."

"No! Please come whenever you're ready. I'm really hoping you'll like what you see."

"Okay, will I need to dress up? Will I be meeting with anyone for an interview? Should I bring copies of my resume?" You wanted to make a good impression, but you weren't sure if this was just something the distillery did casually, like a winery tour, or if you would need to be ready for a formal interview.

"Nope! Just bring yourself! We already know everything we need to know about your qualifications."

"Ah... okay. I'm all yours. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Perfect! I'll leave your name at the front gate with the guard. Just show them your ID and they'll wave you through."

You said your goodbyes and put the phone down. What kind of data analysis job was even available at a distillery? Market trends? Did they need a criminal justice major for tracking down rip-offs, like people counterfeiting their product? But wait, didn't the government do that kind of thing? The ATF? You shook your head clear of questions and hopped in the shower. You could ask Ginger all of your questions, since she seemed to be so happy to talk with you.

When you arrived at the Statesman Distillery an hour later, you were impressed at the size of the facility. Distilleries were pretty common in the state of Kentucky, with lots of little family companies sprinkled around. But Statesman rivaled the big names for sheer square footage.

Ginger met you in a conference room and offered you coffee, and then asked you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. You didn't think twice about it. NDAs were common in lots of industries, and you guessed that it had something to do with trade secrets, Statesman not wanting to leak information about their whiskey production details. When Ginger began the tour and you walked down a long hallway with multiple sparkling white laboratories behind thick glass, you found it unusual, but not alarming. Cleanrooms, maybe? Something to do with alcohol distillation formulas, probably.

When she ushered you into a large wood-paneled office and introduced you to Champ, the head of Statesman, you thought it was odd. Companies didn't normally introduce new college graduates to executives during tours. Based on the size of the organization, you thought you might meet the CEO or President once or twice a year, maybe at a holiday party or a company retreat. But he was friendly, and he seemed to have already heard of you; his eyebrows raised an inch at Ginger when she gave him your name. He also seemed far more interested in criminal justice and data analysis than you expected for a distillery executive, but you shook hands and answered all of his questions politely.

When Ginger asked you to step into an elevator and it dropped 10 floors, you started to wonder a little. When the doors opened and she walked you to a room with a huge bank of monitors, with screens showing all kinds of maps and security video feeds, you were downright confused. But when she revealed the cherry on top, the fact that Statesman was not in the business you thought they were? That was too shocking. You were sure she was joking. You turned behind you to look for hidden cameras, expecting a prank show host to come jumping out at you.

"This is a joke, right?"

Ginger smiled that sweet, warm smile at you. "No joke. We want you to join the Research Unit, working in the Data Analysis section. You would be keeping our agents safe, helping them make the best decisions possible. And in turn your work could save lives, hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. What do you say?"

"I... uh... I still think you’re joking. I’ve never heard of anything like this. I… are you sure you want me?"

"Yes, if you're interested. We could use you on the team." She pushed a little slip of paper into your hand, and when you saw the annual salary that was listed, you almost fainted.

"Ginger, this is way too much. I just graduated and this is, like... this is a senior analyst's salary. I'd be able to pay off my student loans in like three years!"

"Actually, we would be paying your student loans off before you start work. If you have financial burdens hanging over your head you could be vulnerable to bribes or extortion attempts from foreign governments or bad actors. We want you clear before you start with us. Think of it as a signing bonus."

"Holy shit! Sorry, I mean... I... Jesus." You looked at her in confusion. "Y'all really want me?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, we really do."

"Okay, when do I start?"

And that had been it, your first "big girl" job out of college. You were welcomed warmly to the Statesman team, and you loved the fact that you did interesting work that had a real impact. The hardest part had been telling your friends and family the required cover story, saying you were doing market analysis until you could find a job in criminal justice somewhere. But since you were happy with your new job and it paid well, none of them pressured you to move on.

During your first two years with Statesman you climbed the ranks, earning promotions and new responsibilities that eventually put you in the seat of Assistant Director of Data Analysis. You had risen high enough in Statesman that your work required a code name, and you chose “Paloma,” a nod to your favorite grapefruit cocktail. You answered directly to the head of the Research Unit, and every report that your team produced was vital. You weren't wasting your talent in some corporate hole, enriching the CEO's salary at the expense of your sanity. You were saving lives, making a difference. Your reports had even been sent to the New York headquarters, where they used them as a model for operations.

And the job had brought you romance, too. One day not long after your promotion to Assistant Director, you were walking out of the conference room, so focused on your phone that you didn't see where you were going. You bumped into something large and solid in a denim shirt, and a pair of warm, calloused hands held your shoulders to steady you. You cursed softly to yourself and then looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes that you had ever seen. A man with patchy stubble and a well-worn baseball cap smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" His eyes looked concerned as they searched your face. You looked at him with wonder. He was so, so beautiful. The smile dropped, and then his brows knitted together into a slight frown. "I said, are you okay?"

You realized you were staring with your mouth half open like some lovestruck teenager, and that an embarrassing amount of time had passed since you first met his eyes.

"Yes!" Your voice was louder than you intended. "Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry I bumped into you. I should have watched where I was going. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. Did I hurt you?"

"Ah, no. No, I'm fine. Sorry. Just distracted today."

"That's okay. Sorry I startled you." He smiled again and squeezed your upper arm.

You could have stayed there forever, leaning into his touch. He let go, much to your chagrin, and then went into the conference room. You made a note to ask someone who he was, to see if you could find out more about him. He wasn't being escorted by a staff member, so he was obviously part of the Statesman organization somehow. Someone would know who he was.

You went into the ladies room, running into Ginger at the sinks. "Oh, Paloma! I'm so glad I saw you. I need to steal your boss for an urgent matter. Can you run his 11:00 meeting in the conference room? I know it's last minute, but I'll buy you lunch later."

Your brain flickered out for a nanosecond. The 11:00 meeting? The conference room? The handsome man? You recovered your composure and smiled at Ginger. "Yeah, no problem at all. Tell him to drop his notes off in the conference room and I'll be there in just a moment."

Ginger smiled and punched your shoulder softly. "Thanks, Pal. I owe you one."

You washed your hands in a trance. Oh lord, this was going to be interesting. You squared your shoulders and met your own eyes in the mirror. You looked exactly like you had this morning, just your normal self. Most of the time that was fine, but right now you wanted to be more glamorous, more devastating. You wanted to absolutely bewitch the handsome mystery man in the meeting. In the absence of some kind of last-minute emergency Hollywood makeup team, you would have to settle for a fresh application of lip balm and a quick scrub of your teeth with a damp paper towel. You flicked a stray eyebrow hair into place, sighed, and headed back to the conference room. Looks weren't important anyway, right? Statesman had hired you for your brain, not your face. And really, you were more interested in showing your boss that you could do well in your new role. So you banished your insecurities from your mind and breezed into the meeting.

"Good morning everyone." You studiously chose not to look at the handsome man you had run into, keeping your eyes on your notes for the time being. You were afraid that if you looked at him you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away. "The Director has been called away for an urgent matter, so I'll be leading today’s operational planning meeting. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Paloma."

You risked a glance at the handsome stranger, relieved to see that his eyes were on his notepad and not on you. You let out a breath and found your stride, walking the group through the team's findings, the data, the implications, and the desired outcome for the mission. Agent Tequila asked a few cocky, half-assed questions, probing you for weaknesses. Normally that would have irritated you, but today it was a welcome focus that took your mind off the butterflies. You knocked Tequila back in place with a few well-chosen words, and then opened up the floor for questions.

The handsome man raised his hand, and your eyes fixed on how large and thick his fingers were. Oh God, this was torture. "Yes, Mr...?"

"Catfish. Um, can you tell me more about the extraction plan?"

"Yes, absolutely." You went over that phase of the mission, giving all the details your team had gathered about the terrain and the timing. When you were done, Catfish smiled at you, and your knees went weak at the sight of the dimple that appeared. No one else had questions, so you closed the meeting and stood to leave.

Suddenly there was a warm wall of denim at your elbow. "Hey, that was really detailed information. Thank you so much for walking me through everything."

You turned and smiled. "You're welcome. Glad I could help." You fumbled for something to say, trying to extend the conversation and keep him in your orbit for however long you could while everyone else filed out of the room.

"So, um, you go by 'Catfish.' Can I ask why? That's your code name, right? There's not some kind of hidden tragedy where that's the name your parents actually wrote on your birth certificate?"

He chuckled, throwing his head back. The expanse of his thick neck and bobbing Adam's apple did nothing to improve the butterflies. They only fluttered harder, rising higher in your chest.

"It's an old Army nickname, I was Special Forces about a million years ago. Now I'm here on the transport team. I'm a helicopter pilot. When we're not working you can just call me Frankie."

"Ah." You bit your lip and nodded. Why couldn't you think of something else to say? Fortunately, Frankie continued the conversation.

"And you're Paloma around here? I love that drink. Am I allowed to know your real name, or is that classified?"

You grinned and shook his hand, giving him your name. When it rolled off his lips in that deep voice it sounded like heaven to you. You didn't want anyone else to say your name ever again. Just him.

He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “Can I ask you a question? Top secret.” He winked, and you nodded.

“Can I take you to lunch?”

Your heart dropped into your pelvis, and you gulped, hard. “Y-yes. Yes, that would be great. I’d love to.”

---

When Ginger found you in your office at 2:00 p.m. you were staring off into space, smiling blissfully.

“Hey, Paloma. Why did you blow me off for lunch? I came by at 12:30, I was going to take you out.”

“Oh! Oh my god, Ginger, I’m so sorry! I had a date.”

She raised her eyebrows at you, settling down in one of your visitors chairs. “A date?”

“No! Not a date. A, um…” You burst into husky giggles, and then confessed everything to her: the handsome man, the crinkles around his eyes, his dimples and his silly code name, the easy conversation over lunch, and the fact that he had scribbled his phone number down on a sticky note that was now burning a hole in your pocket. You felt like you were 12 again, confiding in your girlfriend about crushes and cute boys.

Ginger laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. “No wonder you forgot about me. I can’t compete with a handsome helicopter pilot!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ginger. I really didn’t mean to forget.”

“No, it’s okay. But definitely call him this weekend and make a real date. I’ll want details when you take me out for an apology lunch on Monday.” She winked and left your office.

You sat back in your chair and tilted back to look at the ceiling while you considered it. Was it too soon to call him and make a date? Ugh, this was agony. You decided that going by conventional rules hadn’t really mattered to you at any point in your life until now, so why the hell not?

You took a deep breath, trying to puff up your confidence. When he answered the phone on the second ring, you dove right in. “Hi, Catfish? It’s Paloma. Listen, I had a really good time at lunch, and I’d like to see you this weekend if you’re free.”

---

On Monday, you had a whole lot to report to Ginger.

Frankie took you up for a sightseeing flight on your date, and you loved the way he controlled everything; making sure he warned you before any sudden movements, and checking that you weren’t getting airsick or anxious. When the rotors were stilled and you were back on the ground, Frankie reached over to help you unbuckle your harness. Something got stuck, and the agonizing extra seconds of feeling him jostle the strap near your hip made you bold. When it was finally free and he was about to pull his hand away, you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you, alarmed that something was wrong, and you crashed your lips against his, all teeth and tongue and wanting. Frankie was as good a kisser as he was a pilot, and you spent the rest of the date making out in his truck.

The next weekend, you found out that his warm, work-worn hands were also magic in the bedroom. Frankie was adept at tweaking your sensitive spots as gently as the little buttons and switches of the flight panel, bringing you to thrumming heights the same way he did his helicopter.

The rest of the summer passed in heady, humid days and nights like a dream. You loved Frankie’s easy sense of humor and his confidence in the cockpit. But Frankie was less confident about your relationship, voicing concerns about the decade-plus that separated your ages, and whether he was keeping you from dating men your own age. He made self-deprecating comments about being an “old man,” and you reassured him that there was no one you’d rather be with, no one who could sway your attention. You loved using your hands and arms and lips and tongue to reassure him, finding that he had his own sensitive spots that you could manipulate. You loved sending him to sleep with a smile on his face.

But as much as you and Frankie enjoyed the relationship, the nature of his work with the transportation team meant that he was never in town for very long. At the same time, your job was getting more complex, requiring late nights at the office that interfered with your time together. You refused to dwell too much on the fact that you were torn, that you loved your work as equally as you wanted to spend those nights with Frankie.

By the end of the summer, you both came to the realization that it was nobody’s fault, simply a case of poor circumstances, and you decided to end things and remain friends. In October Frankie left Statesman to take a job that relocated him to Florida. You were wistful, and you missed him, but at least it had been an amicable split. At least friends was something. And as sometimes happens even with the best of intentions, the time in between each phone call grew longer, and you eventually lost touch. Last you heard he was spending weekends with his old Army buddies who all lived nearby, and he had a new girlfriend. By February the ache was starting to subside, and by April you were nearly ready to date again.

In May, almost three years to the day after Ginger’s visit to your apartment had changed your life, you were offered the position to lead the Data Analysis team in New York. You jumped at the chance. Statesman located an apartment for you, and from the pictures you were already in love with it. Huge windows looked out over the city, and it was within walking distance of Statesman HQ. Your farewell party was bittersweet. Ginger offered to come visit you, and promised that New York would be everything you hoped it would be. Your team gave you such high praises that you joked that if that’s what it took to hear accolades, you would have left ages ago.

---

Your first few days in New York were spent acclimating to the Statesman HQ, and getting to know your neighborhood. It was strange to find that you could walk or take the subway for whatever you needed, compared to the Midwest where a car was required for everything. Your new team was welcoming, and you enjoyed your new duties immensely. Your first two weeks on the job passed in no time, and you went home every night feeling like you could fly.

And then you hit a wall, in the form of Jack Daniels, a.k.a. “Senior Agent Whiskey.” You knew him by reputation, of course. Ginger had filled you in on his exploits, his overbearing charm, his smarmy flirtations. You had seen him once or twice in passing when he had visited Champ’s office, but you hadn’t actually met him in person.

When you finally did, you almost asked for an immediate transfer back to Louisville. --- "Paloma" Series Masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Tag list: @honeymandos @driedgreentomatoes @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @honestly-shite @anaaaispunk @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell���lord @nicolethered @dihra-vesa @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @anxiousandboujee

[touchmycoat]

I LOVE YOUR PORN AU!!!!! LIKE SO MUCH - and i'm just. if you don't mind me asking, how - the way you flesh out the characters, their motivations, and feelings in every scene in such an eloquent way, and just little things here and there, a habit or an activity that adds dimension to who they are, and - your prose is wonderful. you achieve this addictive, engrossing narrative space that readers just absolutely melt into, and i have to ask - how did you develop your writing style? 1/2

what books did you read that formatively shaped the way you write? or you know, what did you do to improve your writing? i'm so in awe of how you world-built and established the porn au - like lqg & hc being national taolu champions?? how do you come up with that stuff? i cannot comprehend the amount of research and effort that must've gone into porn au, and i'm just so deeply thankful that you decided to share that with us. i apologize if i'm coming on too strong, but wow. thank you 2/2

--

oh my god please don't apologize, when i saw your ask i rolled on the floor giggling hysterically for a solid 15 min, bless your heart

part of the answer to your question—i've taken like, 8 years' worth of creative writing classes/workshops! there was also a transnational literary component to my degree so whenever possible, i took literature classes fksjdfksd so whatever you see and like is definitely the result of a lot of work. My writing from not even 10 years ago but like, 5? horrid, ridiculous, wild, cringe. The Porn AU itself is the second draft of a MUCH more lackluster piece.

about my writing style. gosh, you really know how to make a writer blush. "I like your writing style" is literally an instant kill LMFAO okay okay, the useful answer: my primary criteria for choosing what to write is, don't be obvious, be interesting. Fiction tells us to show, not tell, right? Poetry is about concretizing the abstract. Screenwriting says cut all useless lines. A lot of writing rules and advice—never start with the weather, avoid detailed descriptions of the characters, don't use adverbs, etc.—are all really about this exact sentiment.

I once took a seminar on writing for horror movies. The golden rule of the horror genre is Never Show the Monster, because whatever the audience is imagining is always going to be scarier than what you actually show them. There are obviously exceptions to this (to all writing rules), but in my mind, it's all the same principle.

LONG answer under the cut

So you start with building a scene. I approach it like essay-writing—I state my thesis for the motivations/main propulsion of the plot. "In this scene, LQG and SY are motivated to save Cang Qiong's porn production, so they have sex on camera." Then you build the sub-motivations: "LQG is also doing this because he's pining after SY."

I learned this "thesis-writing" from theater, specifically from writing 10-min plays. Theater is all about characters being driven by their wants and needs, and the reason I say 10-min plays in particular is because longer forms of writing will give you more leeway, but in 10-min, you pretty much need your character motivations established from their very first line. That's why you need that very clear thesis for yourself—if you don't even know what the character wants from the get-go, then you can't establish who they are, what they want, and where they're going to go in a dynamic and interesting way.

So this thesis drives EVERYTHING that happens in your scene, just like an actual thesis for an essay, just like topic sentences for your paragraphs. Once I do this, I have the emotional direction & narrative scope of how much this scene will cover, I have a sense of where it begins and ends. "Begin with the dynamics of their sex. LQG starts showing signs of his feelings. Reveal LQG backstory for exactly what those feelings are and why he isn't telling SY. The rest of the scene implies that LQG's feelings may not be so unrequited, but also sets up the fundamental problem at the heart of the whole fic—SY's inability to comprehend his own feelings." This is kind of my new thesis now. They're having sex; LQG pines; SY doesn't know he himself is pining.

Now it's time to manifest. This is the "storytelling" part, and the hardest lmfao.

Personally, my approach is largely shaped by my very cool screenwriting teacher, who hammered into us: don't fucking waste lines. The Golden Rule of screenwriting is that every line should reveal something new. I found my old writing kind of repetitive, especially on the emotional front, so this is kind of my editing mantra now—is this line either propelling the story or revealing character? If it's revealing character, is it a revelation that has to happen right now, or is it slowing the momentum of the scene?

But these aren't rhetorical questions! "Momentum" doesn't just mean tumble forward as fast as you can, it also means taking the time to draw the bowstring back further, so your next move has even more propulsion. That's why you get the little "LQG has been in love with SY..." cut scene in the middle of the fucking (at least, that's my reasoning for putting it there). Every line has to bring a fresh revelation that "proves" your thesis further.

That brings me to the details. You said you like the details I inject into the world-building, and honestly that's so gratifying to hear, because that means I'm successfully manifesting my intentions, y'know? "Every line has to bring new info" kind of sounds like a tall order, but the most effective way I've seen it done in books and onstage/onscreen is with these hyper-specific details. If you're writing a scene in which someone feels dirty, never have them just say that—have them say they want to take a shower. Show them running out of bleach again as they scrub down the stall after they wash. Begin the scene like "Steve always washes his throat first now." Then pack the scene with even more revelatory details: "Soap in hand, he heard the pipes above his head groan for a half note on adagio, and readied himself for the blast of icy water that always followed." Shitty shower, probably not rich, is likely a classical musician.

By the same token, I want to build LQG's character. The "Liu Qingge has been in love with Shen Yuan" section is the first insight we get into his background and perspective, right, so: I need to establish LQG's emotional context for filming this scene -> I can characterize him as a nut for martial arts in the same stroke -> so this takes place at a gym, beating up sandbags is a classic way of showing manly emotional distress -> so give me more details on this gym -> Puqi Gym, XL the martial god is obviously the owner -> how do I have XL & LQG a relationship beyond gym owner & client? They spar together -> I want XL & HC's position in this AU to mirror their god/ghost king statuses in TGCF canon -> how can I concretize their fighting prowesses in real-world details? -> they're martial arts champions -> what's an actual competitive martial art form that involves weaponry? -> wushu -> wikipedia Wushu, find taolu weapons sparring

(I just realized that in my songxiao daycare AU, Hualian are Olympic gold medalists by the same narrative logic laksjdnflaksjdnflsd)

So, that's the flow of logic behind my world-building lmao. It's all in the details. Leverage is one of my all-time favorite TV shows and the way they build their stories is super inspiring. If their thesis is "the rich and powerful take what they want, we steal it back for you," they manifest it in the most specific and concrete narratives: mine workers who like the work but are fighting for workplace safety vs. the money-grubbing mine owner who will blow up their livelihoods if it means a bigger payday; the little girl from Iraq with refugee status forced to be an accomplice to antique smuggling vs. international smuggler with a fetish for British royalty.

Last pieces of writing advice I've gotten: pay attention to the real world. A writing exercise we did was just sit in a public spot and make concrete observations on our surroundings. There are stories in everything!!! I learned to observe things like weird holes in the concrete (earthquake? drilling accident? bullet mark?), odd patches of moss or bird shit (look overheard: it's an AC unit dripping water for the former and nesting swallows for the latter), ladies in flipflops walking alongside ladies in high heels (excited mother walking her antsy daughter to the bus for the daughter's first job interview—the daughter's shirt collar is unfashionable and she's taking the bus, so there's a good chance the shoes were passed down, maybe from an office lady aunt. Maybe she's even overdressed for the interview, so will her outfit be an unintended source of tension once she gets to the interview? Is it a group interview, to make the comparison more stark?).

Also, write what you know. You know why SY is a video editor in porn AU? Because I'm a video editor. One of my more popular MDZS fics is set in a plant shop 'cause I worked in a plant shop. SL was First AD in Bachelor!AU 'cause I was First AD on a set once. Concrete details like the editing software having a split-screen, always answering questions about how often to water plants, and being up until 3AM editing call-sheets are the ones that will fully immerse your readers.

And if you can't do the actual things, just watch someone who is, listen to them talk, pick up lingo, and fake it. I watched like a 15-min vox video on fencing for the fencing!AU and a 45-min music theory video on the hospital pianist!AU (also I started learning piano sklfjnlsdjlfkjsd). Of course, I just finished reading a wangxian fic that had me going, "holy fucking shit, the author is literally getting their masters in a music program" so my 45-min youtube video ain't shit, but if you just need a little bit of character establishment, then it's enough to do the trick.

Anyways, tl;dr. Find the details, find the tension. Never tell outright what the tension is supposed to be, manifest it instead. Make the manifestation as interesting as possible, and if it's meant to be funny, make it funnier.

Sorry this turned into a fucking lecture lskjnflskdjnflskd but last thing, someone asked me before if I had formative authors, and this was the list I wrote at the time:

Angels in America (play) by Tony Kushner

The God of Small Things (novel) by Arundhati Roy

The Penelopiad (novel) by Margaret Atwood

“Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out” (poem) by Richard Siken

Night Sky with Exit Wounds (poetry) by Ocean Vuong

Giovanni’s Room (novel) by James Baldwin (and then Go Tell it on the Mountain and then his essays)

Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger

And, ooh, now that I have this list I think I can even roughly sort it as such: Kushner, Atwood, Siken, and Salinger I really latched onto for their dialogue and very present narrator voice—same is true for Go Tell it on the Mountain. Roy, Vuong, and Giovanni’s Room, I think, are texts more representative of the kind of saturated figurative language I like, and emulate. Of course they all do imagery and voice and overall structure amazingly, but that’s the rough dividing line I’d draw.

But yeah James Baldwin is my fucking hero.

[yikesharringrove]

maybe? 👉👈 steve taking a really long time with college (like on one year and off one yours year, on, off, on, off) and he still doesn't really know what he wants to do and he gets really frustrated bc billy just did college all in one go and steve is taking forever and he feels down on himself? idk im feeling the whump rn???

Steve had left high school having no idea what he wanted from the rest of his life.

That’s not true, he had some idea.

He knew he wanted to leave Hawkins, follow Billy wherever he was going. He knew he wanted to be with Billy for the rest of his life, he knew he wanted to leave the past behind and make new friends, people who were kind, and fun, and didn’t bat an eye when Billy pulled him into his lap.

But that’s about it.

So when Billy graduates high school, and gets a full ride to UC Berkeley, and they move into a cheap apartment in downtown Oakland, Steve is so happy that he got out.

He gets a job waiting tables at a restaurant down the street, pays half the rent and buys the groceries while Billy’s in class.

But then two years pass, and Billy’s soaring through college, working to his degrees, plural, because he just couldn’t decide between studying English Literature or Biology with a focus in research.

So he’s majoring in both and getting a minor in Italian because then I’ll know what you’re sayin’ when you start horny babblin’.

And Steve was at the same restaurant.

True, he was assistant manager now, and it came with a pretty okay raise, and he even gets dental insurance, but he feels so stuck.

So he enrolls in community college.

He starts with some general classes, still completely unsure of what he wants to study.

Billy said it was okay to just rule out things you don’t want to study, to nearly fail a math course and know that accounting is not for you.

So when Steve finishes his first year, he at least knows what he doesn’t want to pursue.

Meanwhile Billy has an internship at a lab through Kaiser Permanente. And he can read and write Italian than Steve can.

Steve is walking home from his job at the restaurant when it happens. He’s crossing the street, and gets hit by a car.

He’s taken to the hospital, where he’s informed of a fractured spine and another concussion.

He’s told his injury could’ve been much more severe, that he will not experience paralysis, but he needs physical therapy and walking will be difficult for a while.

Their finances take a big hit.

Billy’s internship doesn’t pay super well, and with Steve being unable to work for the foreseeable future, he’s fired.

Billy has insurance through the school, but because on paper, he and Steve have no real relation, Steve’s medical bills come out of pocket.

So Steve is bedridden for months. He can’t work or get groceries, or do fucking anything but lay there.

They can’t afford physical therapy.

But Billy has a friend studying to be a PT, and she comes over every Saturday, and practices her technique on him in exchange for ten bucks and a few beers.

And so the money Steve tucked away for school is rapidly diminishing.

By the time Billy graduates, Steve is a year into recovery. He still gets dizzy at odd intervals, and his back gets stiff when it rains, but Billy gets a job right away, doing research on flu vaccines.

And Steve goes back to work.

He gets a desk job, something he won’t have to be on his feet all day for. He works reception for a message therapist, which comes with free massages, which work wonders on his back.

So in the fall, he decides to give his education another shot.

He learns that history is not for him, and that his nutrition course was fine until they began looking into how the body processes nutrients, and he was fucking lost. He takes a few business classes, thinking, hoping genetics would take over and this is something he could do.

But his dad was right to take away the job opportunity at his own firm. Steve was not cut out for this.

After a year of research, Billy is promoted three times. He ends up working on some extremely important study that Steve does not understand for the fucking life of him.

But he sits and listens every time Billy explains what he did that day, even though Steve gets so sad when Billy mentions having to kill the lab mice to study their bodies.

So Steve is two years into community college, five years into living in Oakland with Billy, and he still is lost.

He takes a semester off, working more hours, trying to save up some money.

Because Billy is beginning to think about grad school, and that shit’s not cheap.

But Billy decides to postpone that, work for a few more years, and besides, he’s caught between studying something to put him in a research field, or just straight up going to medical school to study infectious disease.

Because Billy could. He’s smart enough for medical school, smart enough to research and be a doctor.

And Steve has a smushy spine and half a degree in nothing.

A semester off turns into a year.

A year and a semester.

Two years.

They’ve been in California for seven years, and Billy gets into grad school in San Diego. They move south and Billy spends late nights pursuing a Masters in Immunology.

And Steve works the front desk at a pediatrician’s office.

He’s flipping through a course catalog from the San Diego Community College when Billy comes home from his new job, the position he got after applying to only three labs.

He kissed the top of Steve’s head, moving to grab himself a beer from the fridge.

“You thinkin’ of going back?”

“I don’t know.” Steve slid the catalog closed. “Is it even worth it?”

“That’s something you have to decide.” Billy sat down, sliding the catalog towards him. Steve had crossed off the classes he had already taken, the ones he new he wouldn’t like.  “And you know, going to school isn’t the only option. You could get an apprenticeship, master a trade.”

“I can’t do anything where I need to bend over for really any length of time. So that rules out plumber, and car mechanic, and anything physical like construction, or landscaping or even general contracting is right out.”

Steve could feel the old shame, the doubt and the self hatred crawling up his spine.

“I have nothing to offer. I have no discerning skills, and in seven years I’ve only made it through two years of goddamn community college, and here you are, ripping through grad school like a fourth degree is easy.”

“Stevie, you’ve got a lot to offer. We just gotta find something that suits you.” He took Steve’s pen, turning to the back page of the catalog. “Okay, we’re gonna write down all of you strengths, and think of career paths that could fit those. I’ll go first, you’re extremely caring. You’d be good at any career where you care for people.”

“But I can’t study nursing or something, I barely understood my biology 101 course. Plus, nurses are strong. I can’t lift more than like, thirty pounds.”

“There’re way more caring fields than nursing, Pretty Boy. Although I would love if you were my nurse.” Billy smirked at him, leaning in to plant a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek as he rolled his eyes. “Another strength: your emotional intelligence is through the fucking roof.” He wrote it down. “Okay, I’ve said tow, so you say one.”

“Um, I think that I’m good at making people laugh?”

“Yes! You are. Perfect.” Billy scribbled it down. “You’re a good leader.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” Billy wrote Intuitive, can smell a douchebag from a mile away.

“You’re good under pressure.”

“Sometimes.”

“Every time I’ve seen. You’re good at keeping calm and keeping others calm.”

“I guess.”

“Nah, Stevie. Positives only. Say a strength.”

“I’m, uh, I’m good at, bilingual?” Billy stared at him. “Like, I’m bilingual.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think that was English, even.” Steve slapped his chest, Billy laughed. “I’m joking. You are bilingual. You’re also really good at making others feel safe.”

“I was always pretty alright at public speaking.”

“You’ve got a great eye for detail.”

“I’m good at teamwork, and delegating.”

“You’re really compassionate, too.” Billy drew a line under the strengths side. “Okay, so now we’ve got some of your strengths, think about what you’d want in a job, and we can match everything up and think about some careers that could fit.” Steve nodded, racking his brain.

“Um, I would want to work with kind people, I would kind of like to do something, you know, worthwhile. I’d like to be in charge of something. Like it’s fine if I have a boss to answer to, but I’d like to be fairly independent.”

“I already have so many ideas.”

“Lay ‘em on me.” Steve sat back, closing his eyes to try and picture everything Billy threw out.

“I’ve actually always thought you’d be a really good teacher. Especially if you did like, kindergarten. Just got to be around little kids all day.” Steve could actually see it. “I also think you’d be a could social worker, like to work with Child Protective Services, or something. Um, you’d be good at even planning. Or I think you’d be really good working at a nonprofit of some kind. Maybe you could be the event planner for a nonprofit.”

And Steve was sitting there, and suddenly, he had four career paths, just sitting right in front of him. Four super attainable career paths.

“Wait, wait those make sense.” Billy beamed at him.

“Yeah, that’s because I know you, Pretty Boy.” Billy opened the catalog. “So, I think if you choose to enroll, you should pick a few classes, like, Intro to Social Work, Early Childhood Education 100, and maybe like, Sociology, and see from there.”

Steve stared at the course descriptions for what Billy circled.

“Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry this has taken me so long.”

“It’s okay. Everyone is on a different timeline. And it’s not like you got to explore options in high school. You were told business until your dad decided that nevermind. So it’s understandable that this took you a minute. Plus, you went through hell with your back.”

Steve sat up straight, stretching out his back.

“But, I mean, the back thing kinda happened to you too, and you still made it through all your schooling.”

“Sure, I watched you go through it, but I was not in the pain you were. And like, emotionally, it fucking sucked to watch the love of my goddamn life go through something, and I couldn’t even afford therapy. Like, I felt so helpless, but that’s nothing to what you went through literally experiencing it.” Steve took Billy’s hand, linking their fingers together, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“You did the best you could. Everything was shit for like, that whole year.”

“I cannot telly you how many times I would go into an individual study room in the library and just like, sob for a while.And then I’d get so mad at myself, thinking of you at home, hurting and not even able to get yourself out of bed, and I’d race home feeling like shit.”

Steve scrubbed his fingers through Billy’s hair. He had cut it a while ago, kept it short these days.

“You were doing everything you could for me. I would just sit in bed all day, and think about how amazing you are. Like I would just think about all the good times we’ve had together, and how much I love you.”

“That explains why we didn’t fight for like, that whole year.” Steve laughed. Billy leaned to kiss him softly.

“And you know, even now we’ve done this, there’s still no rush on you. You don’t have to go back to school this year, of this decade, or anytime until you’re ready. Until you want to.”

“Well now, I feel like there’s a fucking light at the end of the tunnel. I’m almost, excited. Is this how you feel? Excited to go to school?”

“Welcome to the nerd life, Sweet Thing.” Billy drained the last of his beer. “You wanna go out tonight? Celebrate?”

“Like, go out to dinner, or go out?”

“Oh, just like dinner. Be home by eight thirty, in bed by nine, missionary with the lights off, and asleep by nine fifteen.”

“Sign me the fuck up.”

[ashketchup119]

Musicality

Ok I LOVE this story!! I made a whole story based off a lil convo @jemtoka and I had, and I made oc’s based off each of us and went to town. It was very fun to write, and I got to combine my music knowledge with my writing skills.

Enjoy!

When Benji had first set out to find the ghost of Beethoven, he wasn’t actually sure that he’d be able to do it. His brother had once called him “all bite and no bark”, a reference to the fact that out of the four brothers, Benji had been the only one to not outgrow his infant habit of biting things- or people- when stressed. But in this situation, he definitely felt like he’d bitten off more than he could chew.

He absentmindedly chewed on his chewing necklace as he drafted a grant proposal with his friend, Mujika. Muji was drawing in a notebook, something for his art classes, though he looked up when prompted to review the words that had appeared on Benji’s screen. Muji had done his fair share of research, and though he did want to help with the writing of the research paper, it had been agreed that Benji was the more… academic writer. The two of them had met through social media a couple of years ago, and once they’d started direct messaging, had become close friends quickly through a mesh of shared interests, similar humor, and a half-baked scheme to take over the world.

Which led them here, to a table in the back of a 24-hour McDonalds, Benji chewing the head off a stiff chewable bat pendant and Muji using his nocturnal tendencies to do things like “make sure his friend drank water and didn’t forget that he was a person.”

“Fo you fink ish bit avou duh Immoruhl Bewuved ith done? Ish kinda duh hoh vashis of arr puhposal so…” Benji trailed off, jaw absentmindedly moving over the poor bat, whose head was holding on by sheer force of will to the rest of its body.

“What?” Muji asked. He did not speak bat-in-mouth.

Benji pulled the pendant out of his mouth with an audible pop. “Y’think this bit about the Immortal Beloved is finished? It’s like, the whole basis of our proposal n shit.”

He turned the laptop towards Muji, who closed his notebook, set it to the side, and pulled the laptop in front of him. He read it quietly, and Benji began to tap out the beat to the song playing on low volume in his earbuds. He began to hum, too, murmuring lyrics under his breath as he stared off into the distance.

“I think it looks good.” Muji finally replied, turning the laptop back toward Benji and grabbing his notebook again. “I can’t think of anything else we could add to that section.”

Benji gave a little half shrug. “I guess you’re right.”

The two of them once again worked in solitude, only broken by Benji ordering fries at about 1 AM. At 3, they decided to call it quits, though Benji seemed more wired than ever and voiced some apprehension about “going to sleep when there’s so much work to be done, Muji!” Muji chastised him slightly and promised that they could come back the next day- or rather, later that day- to finish up. There were only slight revisions to be done, then it could be sent off to the Music Master Scholars, an organization dedicated to the care and keeping of the ghosts widely considered Music Masters, which included household names like Mozart and Beethoven, but also lesser-known composers like Joseph Bologne and Francesca Caccini.

Ghosts were, of course, a commonplace occurrence, though one could theoretically live their life without interacting with one. That was rare, though; ghosts had a tendency to wander, though they could only appear in places that held significance to them in life and graveyards, but even living in a house increased the average person’s chances of encountering a ghost exponentially.

But these ghosts were special, because of the knowledge they possessed and the lives they’d lead. The Music Master Scholars were the only people in the world who both knew and had access to the location of every ghost, and to join their ranks, one had to find the location of one of the ‘hidden’ Music Masters- of which Beethoven was the most hidden. Their non-administrative members were unknown, but said to be most, if not all, of the foremost music scholars in the world. How could they not be, with the Masters themselves guiding their research?

Benji and Muji really, really wanted to be Music Master Scholars.

When he was 10, Benji had been given some sort of “young musician” scholarship to visit Europe for a month. He was a double bassist, a dying breed in the modern age, and the fact that he had progressed from monotonic exercises to Baroque sinfonias in the span of four months had impressed his teachers.

His parents had gone along, too, mostly because they knew their child, and Benji did have a propensity to get into trouble. Devil’s luck, his mother had tsked, and that had been that.

He’d managed to escape the group in the middle of a museum, though he didn’t wander far. He just wanted to look at everything without feeling like people were constantly breathing down his neck.

Well. HE didn’t consider “the park near the museum” to be far. His parents did, though, he found out later.

At the park, he found a man. Well, not a man. A ghost. The ghost was staring wistfully at the museum in the distance, and started when he noticed a small child staring at him.

“Hi! Who are you?” Benji asked, clutching the stuffed animal his parents had gotten him at another museum the day before.

The ghost cleared his throat. “I’m uh…” He started in a raspy voice before pausing and clearing his throat again. “I’m,” He sighed. “I’m Johannes Brahms.”

“Yo-hahn Brahmzzzz.” Benji repeated, drawing out the last “s” sound. “Oh! You did music, right?”

Brahms smiled slightly, and nodded.

The two of them talked for a while before Benji’s parents arrived, harried and frustrated. They apologized profusely to the ghost, who insisted it hadn’t been a problem.

The whole experience left Benji starry-eyed, and with the help of a friend he’d made in Germany, he would call and converse with Brahms for hours, asking about counterpoint and meaning and technique and just in general picking his mind. The composer took this with grace, and seemed more than happy to answer the young musician’s questions. When he’d told Benji about the Scholars, Benji had immediately decided that he was going to be a Music Master Scholar.

Muji had played violin until he’d dropped out of high school to take care of his mom, and hadn’t resumed it until after him and Benji had been talking for a while. He didn’t know much about composition, but he loved music history, and after getting his GED and enrolling in college, had even majored in it. Plus, he just kinda just thought the whole thing was cool.

They’d been researching for a year and a half, with pointers from Brahms, and tips from a professor Benji’d had two years ago, a Classical scholar named Dr. Chang. Benji had once emailed her and asked, point-blank, if she was a Music Master Scholar, but she’d only sent back a cryptic winky face emoji in response.

The next day, after three more hours of sitting in McDonalds, revising the proposal (most of which was Muji saying “Benji it looks fine!” and Benji responding with “No, no, this comma in paragraph seven just makes it sound better! Ties it all together, don’t you think?”), it was sent off in an email, and Benji resolved not to think about it while Muji resolved to mention it at the most inopportune moments, just to mess with his friend a little.

They were approved a month later, and three months after that day at McDonalds, they were sitting on a plane heading to Austria, Benji mouthing practice phrases in German as Muji slept. They had about a month to traipse all over Europe in search of a ghost very few people had been able to find, and they were excited to start.

The first week was spent in Austria, visiting Beethoven’s own grave (a nonstarter; the ghosts there hadn’t seen Beethoven since he was buried, and none knew where he’d gone), his childhood home and the area surrounding.

Nothing.

The second week was spent in Vienna. There, they visited the ghost of Mozart, who was a fidgety, flighty sort. He was known for being somewhat immaterial, and often took to jumping on top of objects in a manner that caused the people around them to panic for a few seconds before realizing he was too immaterial to do anything more than whisper vaguely about his childhood. He’d tried to pet Muji’s hair and got annoyed when nothing happened, so it wasn’t a particularly long visit.

They tried to visit Haydn, but while the location of Haydn’s ghost was well-known, only Music Master Scholars were allowed to see him, as he claimed the crowds exhausted him, and he wanted to be able to give his full attention to those visiting him. It made sense, since ghosts used massive amounts of energy to communicate and interact with the world around them, and the more energy they expended, the less time they were able to spend on earth. Despite this, the two  of them did make an effort, but were summarily barred from entering.

“Next time!” Benji declared confidently as they walked to their next potential Beethoven hot spot.

They visited Brahms, who had resolved to meet them in Vienna upon learning they were coming, and spent a whole day with him, visiting locations which had been important to him and letting his impromptu history lessons wash over them with a look of awed reverence.

Beethoven wasn’t in Vienna, and by the third week the two friends were feeling the threat of rejection hot on their heels. They began keeping odd hours, trying their hardest to figure out their next move.

“Maybe we should reread our proposal? Clearly the Scholars saw something in it, right?” Muji theorized from the bed he’d claimed as his their first night in the hotel.

“Mmmm.” Benji responded from his position on the floor at the foot of his bed, still feeling the after-effects of a well-deserved mental breakdown.

“Come on, Benji!” Muji tried to motivate him. “We can do it! You’re a super cool music spy, remember?”

Benji huffed at the reminder of an old, inane conversation between the two. “I don’t know, Muji. I think it’s kinda pointless.”

“Come on, Benji!” Muji tried again. “This is like, your dream! It’s now or never! Put our mutual brain cell to use so we can find Beethoven!”

Benji sighed and got up. “Fine, fine.” He murmured as he got off the floor, grabbed his copy of the proposal from his bag, laid down on the bed, and stuffed another chewable pendant into his mouth. “Wet’s fee.”

Silence reigned for a few, brief seconds, before Muji suddenly exclaimed, “Hey! We never checked out anything about the Immortal Beloved, right?”

Benji sat up straight on his bed and spit out the pendant. “Holy shit, we never checked out anything about the Immortal Beloved.”

After a quick Google search, two train tickets, a couple of sandwiches, and a dash through the rain, they arrived at the Frankfurt Main Cemetery. There, they asked after the name they’d listed in their proposal as the possible Immortal Beloved, and the ghosts pointed them towards the back of the cemetery.

In a ghost grotto, they found a woman, calmly humming the tune from one of the Diabelli variations, though in their excitement neither Benji nor Muji could name the tune.

“Are you-“ Benji paused and took a couple of deep breaths. “Are you the Immortal Beloved?

The woman stopped humming and smiled at them.

“Ah, that is a moniker I have not heard in some time.” She arose and walked away from them, lifting her skirts elegantly in a manner which conveyed a sense of class. “Come; I think you are the ones I’ve been expecting.”

The two followed after her eagerly and looked confused when they stopped at a mail office in town. There, she reached into a P.O. box, pulled out a silver envelope, and gave it to Benji.

“This is yours.” She murmured. “Please do come to visit; it’s rare that I receive visitors.”

With this, she disappeared.

The two stared at the envelope for a couple of seconds before Benji eagerly opened it, accidentally ripping the envelope in half. He then read it, brow furrowing in confusion.

“What’s it say?” Asked Muji, eagerly, from over his shoulder.

“It says… it’s just numbers? I don’t get it.” Benji gave him the paper, trying to puzzle out what it meant.

Muji frowned, then plugged the numbers into Google.

“It’s a location!” He burst out, excitedly shoving the phone in Benji’s face.

The two of them hurriedly called a taxi, listing the location Muji’s phone had given them. They were dropped off in front of the building, and saw someone standing at the entrance. They showed the person (a Scholar!) their letter, and with a large smile, they were taken inside, their guide walking confidently as Benji and Muji trailed behind them. The interior of the building was long and winding, which left the two feeling as though they’d been deceived by the outward appearance of the building. The building had looked small and unassuming, and this place was built like a maze. They were sure they’d be lost if they tried to head back without a guide.

Near the end of the path they heard the sound of a piano playing, and warm light spilled into the hallway. They eagerly rushed ahead, much to the amusement of the Scholar.

There, facing the wall, conducting half a beat behind the sound coming from the recorder behind him, stood Beethoven.

Benji gasped, and clutched Muji’s shoulder. He pointed ecstatically at the figure in the room. “It’s Beethoven!!!” He stage-whispered.

Muji smiled widely as he nodded back. “Yeah!!”

The two of them turned around when a voice behind them cleared. The Scholar gave them each a thick letter with the recognized seal of the Music Master Scholars on the back, and the two of them stared at it, unsure of what to do.

“Well?” The Scholar prompted, rocking back and forth on their heels. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Benji ripped into his envelope first, completely abandoning the flap as he tore the side off. His hands shook as he pulled out a letter on creamy white stationary. He skimmed the words and began crying, clutching the letter and envelope to his chest.

Muji was slightly more careful, removing the letter from the envelope via the flap and pulling out the other contents of the envelope. A laminated membership card, a list of locations of other ghosts, and an alphabetized list of other Scholars with contact info and a small bio were also in the envelope. He pulled out each one, looked at it, and put it back in the envelope. He then stopped and held the envelope in his hands, staring at it.

After about ten minutes, the guide worriedly asked Muji, “Is Benji alright? He’s been crying for a while.”

Muji nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, he cried for like two hours after I finished streaming Crisis Core for him.” At the guide’s look of confusion, he added, “Video game.”

The guide made a small noise of understanding and nodded.

When Benji’s sobs finally faded into sniffles, the three of them began the trek out of the building.

“Sorry this route is so long.” The Scholar apologized. “Oh! Also! I forgot to introduce myself.” They paused and turned, offering their hand. “I’m Soraya Cham! I was the last person to find Beethoven’s ghost. When I heard about you guys, I got excited, really. I was rooting for you!”

The two of them shook her hand and nodded, unsure what else to say.

Soraya continued, then hailed a taxi when they reached the road. They waved goodbye to Benji and Muji as the two of them got in the backseat.

“We did it!” Benji shouted once they were back at their hotel.

[hotcoffeecoldmornings]

(This shit is long so bear with me.)

Can’t Eat, Can’t Sleep, Reach for the Stars

I haven’t felt this way in awhile. This ‘can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, world series kind of love.’ 

It’s hard to describe. The last time I was all-consumed like this by a TV show and a ship, that TV show was The 100, that ship was Clexa, and my world was, quite honestly, turned upside down by it.

I used the first two seasons of The 100 as background noise as I wrote my Master’s Thesis in 2015. To be honest, I didn’t really know exactly what was happening until Bodyguard of Lies (an episode anyone reading this post probably remembers well) came on. And a passionate kiss between two world leaders left me speechless and shocked. I was blindsided by it, unaware that that kiss would be the beginning of not only finding myself, but also accepting myself, and then finding a chosen family I never knew that I needed because of it.

There’s been alot of (okay, not a lot, but more) f/f ships on TV since then. Maggie and Alex. Nicole and Waverly. Elena and Syd. Kat and Adena. Anissa and Grace. Stef and Lena. Karolina and Nico. And the list goes on… While each of these ships is equally important, and each one represents another push towards more inclusive storytelling, there was never a ship that hit me as hard as Clarke and Lexa did.

Until now.

Harold, They’re Lesbians

Gay. Witches.

Motherland: Fort Salem said the words. And I fucking came running.

Okay, so it took me a few weeks… Thank you, twitter timeline, for finally getting my ass on board. It’s not that I didn’t want to start the show. It’s that my anxiety-ridden brain had other plans for me in mid-March. Like spending the majority of my time researching a global pandemic and then crawling into a depression hole because of it… Or something like that.

But nonetheless, I’m here now. And I’m fucking staying.

I knew I’d love this show. The concept of witches peppered with the idea that sexuality is irrelevant is honestly my one and only weakness. So I went into episode one with high hopes. And I sure as hell was not disappointed.

Episode 1 gave me even more than I could’ve asked for. We meet three uniquely powerful individuals, who all come from three uniquely interesting backgrounds. Abigail Bellweather, born into a lineage of the most powerful and elite witches Fort Salem has ever seen. Tally Craven, the last one standing in her family’s long-line of service, selflessly choosing to say the oath when she didn’t technically have to. And Raelle Collar, who has an unparalleled set of powers, combining her mother’s Christo-Pagan ways with those of the seeds learned at Fort Salem.

Rounding out that already brilliant cast is Scylla Ramshorm, the ‘sexy weird’ Necro who may or may not be evil (but we love her all the same). General Sarah Alder, the original witch who signed the Salem Accord, selling out every future witch to the United States Army, and whose ego quite often gets the best of her. And Anacostia Quartermaine, the Bellweather Unit’s Drill Sergeant who has a peculiar fondness (and leniency) for Raelle Collar.

The fact that this television show is entirely female centered (like, we’re talking 60 seconds of male screen time in the pilot), is what separates this show from most. Men exist in the world of Fort Salem as characters to exclusively propel the female leads forward, which is a stark contrast to the majority of shows right now.  And not only is the entire main cast female, the main lead is gay. And honestly, the sexuality of every character on the show is questionably debatable as well. Except for Abigail, who quite clearly is into any and all men, and Tally, who grew up on a Matrifocal Compound and ended up in Fort Salem as a virgin. Which, of course, no shade to her, but it did strike me as odd when Abigail immediately assumed Tally’s virgin-ness when growing up in an all-female world was brought up.

So let’s start there, shall we?

 The Heteronormative Narrative (or not…)

Something I did find puzzling about Motherland: Fort Salem (and the only thing, really) is how they portray sexuality, relationships, and love. In regards to sexuality, Eliot Laurence, the creator and executive producer, has been incredibly forward in interviews with the narrative that ‘your sexual preference doesn’t matter in this world.’ Which I appreciate to the fullest, trust me. But pardon my slight hesitation when I hear that line, because I think we’ve all been burned by it once before.

Motherland: Fort Salem has done a tremendous job of this. They’ve allowed characters to own their sexuality without question. It was never a thing when Raelle started dating Scylla. At Beltane, everyone went off with whomever the dance paired them with - even if that meant the same gender, and even if that meant three or four or five of them. Sexuality, in regards to same-sex partners, is never a character arc in this show, and it’s never there to create a plot point. 

HowEVER, there were a few things I noticed that confused that fact. 

Like I said about Abigail in the very first episode, when the Bellweather Unit is meeting for the first time, why was Abigail so quick to question Tally’s virginity after learning she comes from a Matrifocal Compound? If there are no heteronorms in the world of Motherland: Fort Salem, then why is it assumed that losing your virginity is related to relations with a man? Even though Tally is (well… was) a virgin, why would that question be brought up? If roles were reversed and it was Raelle living on the Matrifocal Compound, the conversation would’ve gone strikingly different, and it would’ve supported this heteronormative narrative that I thought we were trying to avoid. I’m just going to blame this one line on how badly Abigail wants the D, so sleeping with a woman wouldn’t even cross her mind.

But then what about the idea of this ‘five-year marriage contract’? It’s simply about producing a child, so I assume a woman could never have that sort of thing with another woman, and that those women could never add to their lineage (unless they entered into a five-year marriage contract simply to reproduce). Doesn’t this, alone, signify a heteronormative world without even meaning to do so? While they accept LGBTQ+ relationships, how do they actually fit into the society and culture that this show has created? Wouldn’t the gay witches be seen as almost inadequate in carrying on the gene if they don’t have a child? (AmI just thinking too much into this...?)

But then again, the whole concept of ‘love’ in Fort Salem is rather insignificant itself. As Gerit mentions, no one is supposed to spend their life with just one person. Witches are committed to one another in five-year partnerships to reproduce, and then that’s it. So in a way, I understand that nobody, no matter what their sexuality is, really gets to experience this fairytale ending that we’re used to seeing in a (*cough* heterosexual) ship on TV. And in a way, I also think that’s what makes this show all the more fascinating. Eliot Laurence gave everyone a level playing field by just removing the idea of a happily ever after altogether. In Laurence’s world, witches are meant to train and fight and die for their country. Love is their weakness. But what’s so compelling about that is even though love is their weakness, he made sure that love also manifests into their greatest strength.

From what I’ve seen in interviews for Laurence, every single thing has a purpose. So I’m quick to let this go, and see where he takes us. He’s been building this world inside his head for nine years, so I know that there’s so much more to this story than what can be told in a 10-episode season.

 But Back to the Lesbians

Anyway, back to love. Specifically gay love. I wish I could put into simple words my obsession with Raelle and Scylla. 

From the incredible chemistry that Taylor Hickson and Amalia Holm share on-screen together to the directors and writers who’ve portrayed their love story so magically, Raelle and Scylla are truly something special. They’ve taken the place of a ship this queer fandom lost when Lexa was killed. It’s a ship that you want to hate, because every part of this story tells me to hate Scylla. She’s Spree. She’s vindictive. She’s dangerous. Yet every part of my brain tells me to love her. And to love them together.

I don’t like easy stories. I want stories that make the ending worth it. I want hardships and pain and hurt and work when it comes to love. Which is why I like the story of Raelle and Scylla. There was a spark between them in their very first scene together- a spark you could feel through the TV. It was believable and real. They come from similar backgrounds of loss and solitude, and that’s what originally bound them together. And over the next seven episodes, we watched their relationship grow. We saw their vulnerabilities, their growth, their passion. But now we’re going to see the hardship. The pain, the anger, the betrayal. 

I appreciate that they’re not skimping on telling any part of their story. The two are special together, and so far, this show has proved that.

 She’s Special

I want to break down Raelle Collar before bringing up anything else, because, well, obviously she’s the main character, but she’s also got a lot going on. The fact that Raelle channels her power through something other than the typical ‘seed’ is something that will be of importance to why she’s so powerful. Petra Bellweather, herself, claims that Raelle’s mom, Willa, used unconventional methods that delivered incredible results. “She was the fixer every unit wanted to deploy with.” 

While all witches in Basic Training are learning about utilizing their extra set of vocal cords to create magic songs, Raelle can do it in a way that’s reminiscent of where she grew up- Chippewa Cession. In the very first episode, she makes note that her family was there before it became a Cession. Aka, before the land was given to the Chippewa tribe in exchange for their magic.

Raelle comes from a line of witches that all have more unique abilities than what’s taught at Basic Training. She uses a combination of Native American spirituality/Christo-Paganism skills during her days at Fort Salem, which brings up questions (and judgment) from other witches. It seems as though that kind of magic was the way witches used to do things before Sarah Alder released her song into the world and created a vocalizing army with it. Raelle’s peers look disgusted when they see her still using the same ways witches once did. It’s particularly noticeable when she heals people, and recites Matthew 7:7, “Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” The entire theme of the Book of Matthew, in regards to Christianity, is about prayer. Asking and receiving. That God will provide you with what’s needed, and nothing more. But when it comes to Paganism, it’s about the law of attraction and return in our universe. It outlines that there is no life without balance - that all prayers can be answered, but they’ll be answered with things that are taken from elsewhere. All prayers almost have a consequence. Just like all magic has a consequence. 

Raelle’s power, at least what she knows of it up until now, is based on a consensual balance, bringing the theme of Paganism’s Matthew 7:7 into the type of witchcraft she practices. She can heal someone, but what she heals them from will be transferred onto her. Balance. Consequence.

Bringing General Sarah Alder back into this, this is the same type of magic that she traded for back in the 1700’s when she granted the Chippewa Tribe the entire length of the Mississippi River. In exchange, she gained the magic that could keep her eternally young. But just like the magic that Raelle does, this age defying practice has consequences too, and requires balance. Every 50-60 additional years that General Alder adds on to her endless life, a young witch must be sacrificed to take on those years, and must stand by General Alder the rest of her short-lived life. 

But where does the balance go?

Adil is such a great addition to the cast because he sheds a light on something so crucially ignored on campus. All magic has balance. This is teased throughout the season, like when General Alder hits turbulence on her way to The Hague and jokes (but not really jokes), “I assume I have one of you to blame for that.” Or how Raelle soaks up her ‘patients’ illness. But it’s not truly smacked in our faces until Adil says it.

As Abigail is flaunting her ability to *one day* “grind iron into ore and mountains into dust,” Adil drops a truth bomb on her. “All that weather you fight with has a cost. Floods. Failing crops. Famine. Every war, people starve.” She’s quick to reply that the good they do far outweighs the bad. But to who? Certainly not to Adil and his people. Meeting him is going to give our recruits a serious insight into just how consequential their ‘work’ can be. He’s going to play a crucial role in realizing how manipulative and egotistical General Alder has been. 

Not only is weather an issue, but plagues. “Like the one attacking my sister.” Adil and Khalida come into the storyline because Khalida is sick with a deathly black webbing wrapped around her body. When they first make it to the Military Outpost (somewhere in the dessert between Russia and China?), the Soldier who meets them at the gate yells, “they’re here.” So were they expecting them? 

Raelle eventually is the one who heals Khalida, (by using her Christo-pagan means) but instead of taking up the illness like it usually does, instead, it infects the giant mushroom that Raelle touched earlier. 

The balance of Mother Mushroom.

I go back and forth between theories for the giant mushroom growing under Fort Salem. But today, I’m convinced the mushroom is attached to General Alder’s vitality. And consequently, the entire vitality of Fort Salem as well. In one episode, Berryessa reminds us that all life on campus is directly connected to Alder. And if what Scylla says in My Witches, that “life becomes death, which becomes life again,” is relative to the life on campus and how General Alder parallels that, then this theme of balance throughout the series is more prominent than we realize.

The giant mushroom living under campus is clearly important. It has hands and replicates faces and takes on diseases and Izadora is not a fan of  anyone touching it. So yes, you could say this fungi is a main character now.

But. Why?

“In the kingdom of plants, mushrooms occupy the underworld. Nothing ever really dies.” Mushrooms have an entire underground network of language to one another. And they are responsible for the breakdown and decomposition of death so that organic matter can become something else. Necros have an obvious connection to this ecological process too, so they must have a connection to the continuous process that General Alder goes through to support and sustain life on her campus. 

I think that the “Mother Mycelium” signifies each and every consequence that Fort Salem has accumulated. It holds the hurt and death and pain and regret of everything General Alder has created. And now that the Mushroom is infected with whatever plague Khalida had, I think it’s going to wreak havoc on Fort Salem. Magic is based on balance, and I think massive consequences are coming to make up for years of disparity. 

One last thing on my mushroom-thoughts, is when Helen Graves said “the dead make excellent eyes and ears.” An underground network of mushrooms all connected to recently dead organisms would certainly be a great way to gain insight too. Scylla mentions that she needs something recently dead to grow her deathcap, so does this Mushroom need to be constantly “fed” with death to continue the creation of life? 

Does Alder know about that? Are the mass-murders that the Spree are doing related to this? Killing hundreds of people at a time would definitely be a good way to keep the mushroom o’ death fed. Is Alder behind the Spree!?

 Sexy Weird 

Speaking of Spree... Can we talk Scylla now? First of all, what the hell is this girl’s timeline? When we first meet her, she’s a cadet (second year) in War College already, meaning she would’ve had to enlist on Conscription Day the year before Raelle. Yes? In Mother Mycelium, we see that she *might* (still don’t believe it) have been the person behind that first Spree attack on Conscription Day of this year (so when Raelle, Tally, and Abigail enlisted), so was she at Basic Training for an entire year before deciding to become Spree? Did she enlist knowing that she would eventually be Spree? Does this ever get addressed in the show?

Since we’re here, I might as well say there’s no way Scylla did that. I’ll never believe it. And I’m using my one semester of Greek Mythology in college to tell you why (who knew that class would eventually come in handy)

In My Witches, when Tally, Abigail, and Glory first meet Scylla, Tally makes it clear that ‘Scylla’ is a Greek name. Okay. Greek. Cool. Mythology. Let’s go. I already knew that Eliot Laurence doesn’t waste any minute of screen time when it comes to plot development and storytelling, so my meta brain did a little digging.

In Greek Mythology, Scylla was a sea-monster who haunted the rocks of a very narrow strait, opposite of the whirlpool of Charybdis. The monster’s purpose was to lead ships and boats towards the whirlpool, which was lethal to all who attempted to pass. Scylla was used to lure boats towards Charybdis, but was never meant for actually destroying them. Scylla was a fear tactic, not a murderous monster. In poetry, it’s often said that Scylla isn’t a monster at all, just born into a monstrous family. In conclusion (from my 4 months of Freshman-level Greek Mythology and a little refreshment on Google) I think Scylla is simply being used to lure people to the Spree, but not actually doing the mass-murdering that is being shown in the episode. 

What I do know is that Scylla Ramshorn is absolutely Amalia Holm. Mainly because I refuse to accept that Raelle is falling for the red head (sorry, red head). But also because at the end of the Pilot, when Scylla (in red head disguise) looked into the mirror, the balloon was her reflection, and it followed everything that she did. But in other scenes, when Scylla’s face is the normal Scylla face, she can see her own reflection. So the redhead girl is unimportant. Plus, IMDB says she never appears again this season... 

We Are The Spree 

As much as I hate to believe that Raelle’s mom (or Aunt!) is alive and leading the Spree, the connections between the two entities do add up. Both (Spree and Collar’s) are against the authority and power that the Witch Army has over populations of witches. They’re both against General Sarah Alder. I believe they both use spoken word magic rather than just vocalized magic. When the Spree carry out their attacks, they’re whispering words under their breath, not singing any song. Which is reminiscent of how the Collar’s do magic. Additionally, it would make sense as to why the Spree would want Scylla to bring them Raelle. And I still can’t get over the conversation between Raelle and Tally when Raelle explains her family’s combat charm. “A bowerbird’s foot. They love anything blue.”

Blue? Why. WHY. 

Maybe Willa Collar was captured by the Spree? Or the Aunt was? Or the Spree needs Raelle to heal someone? 

One last weird very unthought out theory goes with the other Biblical verse Raelle recites - Isaiah 43:2. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” The fact that all Spree attacks have happened with something to do water- in the snow, at the pool, on a cruiseship. And the fact that the last line of that verse is literally, “you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” This type of witchcraft has to relate to how the Spree does magic. Right??

Now I’m re-talking myself into the fact that the Collar’s might be somehow leading Spree...

 But who’s ‘we’?

If the Collar’s are in charge of Spree then this next theory would actually check out. 

Anacostia has been a little more over-bearing with Raelle than any of the other girls. On multiple occasions, she’s said how Raelle is gifted. In fact, they all have. Even Abigail in Hail Beltane mentions that “Raelle didn’t go outside of canon, she’s naturally gifted.” They all know she’s gifted. It would make sense if the Collar’s were the ones running Spree, and that Anacostia, aka. General Alder’s head bitch, was sent to protect Raelle from ever joining them. Alder wants to capitalize on the powers that Raelle has, and keep them in the Witch Army. 

But I also think Anacostia could be playing General Alder. There have been too many times where she stares at Alder just a little bit too intently, and I can’t stop thinking that she might be in some sort of rebellious group too. Maybe a certain cell of Spree?

Because you can’t deny that Anacostia has also taken in interest in Scylla, particular to keep her away from Raelle. When Anacostia first caught them flying high on Salva, she told Scylla to stay away from Raelle, and it seemed as though she (tried) to use some sort of coercion magic while doing so. When Anacostia then saw them together at the Bellweather wedding, she almost sounded shocked, “I expressly told you to stay away from her.” Did Anacostia attempt coercion magic on Scylla and it didn’t work? And if she did, why didn’t it work?

That entire exchange felt odd yet familiar. Like the two have history. “Your name wouldn’t have been on the list. You’re not supposed to be here.” Particularly the “you’re not supposed to be here.” Did Anacostia know about the attack on the Bellweather’s? And did she think it would be threatened with Scylla there? Or did she know that Scylla was supposed to bring Raelle to the Spree at 6pm. And was sent to make sure Scylla never completed that task. 

I found it interesting that Anacostia was never seen fighting off the balloons like every other Witch was when they appeared. And her being at the actual wedding felt odd too. Especially if she’s General Alder’s right-hand (wo)man, because last time I checked, Alder and Petra Bellweather weren’t on the greatest terms. In fact, none of the General’s are on great terms with Alder. 

Since we’re now on Bellweather season...

Camarilla. No, not Carmilla.

There’s certainly a second threat in this show. And they were the ones behind the attack at the Bellweather’s. Not only has this already been proven by Jessica Sutton on Twitter (lols) but the clues were literally all there. They didn’t use any magic to fight. They had to use a mechanized sound machine to stop Abigail and Petra from using their powers. Then they covered themselves with gasoline and lit themselves on fire before the mother-daughter duo blew them away. It wasn’t Spree. But it was meant to look like Spree. And I think the balloons were simply a distraction, so all efforts and power would be outside fighting off the balloons while the civilian waiter’s could attack. 

But who is doing this?

It’s been brought up that there are alot of humans who don’t agree with the Witch Army that Alder leads. Even the President of the United States is hesitant about them. “You, too, are bound by rule of law to the will of the American people, who have elected me to represent their interests and protect them. Don’t you forget it. Or you may find yourself reminded.” Then Tally gets confronted later in that episode by a civilian who says, “It’s witches who are committing these attacks. It’s your kind of people .” And then even later in the series, there’s talk of a “growing debate in congress to revoke the Accord and disband the army.” So you could say there are definite opinions about this Army by civilians. 

In A Biddy’s Life, there’s a shot when Raelle and Scylla are in the room with weapons once used to kill witches. There’s an undeniably important shot of the Camarilla Scythe. Camarilla, itself, is defined as a small group of people acting as private advisers to a ruler or politician with a shared and nefarious purpose to carry out secret plots. 

Since civilians are the ones that are most opposed to the Witch Army, it makes sense that maybe the President, herself, is the one behind these attacks. She’s trying to take down the most Elite of the Witches (the Bellweather’s), hence inhibiting the Army from being as successful as it’s been in the past. And what better way than to kill the most elite witches of child-bearing age. 

While this theory checks out, I can’t help but to also think that Petra Bellweather could be behind the attacks. I know, it’s a stretch, (specifically because it’s her own family that’s being targeted) but I do love that ‘good powers, bad people’ trope. And what better way to make sure nobody questions your efforts if you’re the last one they’d suspect? Petra Bellweather has been itching to boot Alder from head witch honcho for awhile. Since killing Bellweather’s is the ultimate attack against witches, this would be a great strategy to showcase that Alder is inept in dealing with these enemies, creating a fall in power. And eventually, a rise in another. A Bellweather. 

Okay, I know what you’re all probably thinking. “So you’re saying that she wanted her own daughter killed!?” Not necessarily. When you watch Bellweather Season, and specifically the wedding scenes, they put an insane emphasis on timing. And I don’t believe that that’s just because of Scylla trying to get Raelle out of there by 6pm. When you watch the sequence back, the Bellweather Unit was supposed to be having their interview with the Dean of War College, starting at 5:30ish. If the interview took a good bit, say 30-45 minutes, this would strategically put Abigail not in the line of fire (aka Charvel’s room) at 6pm when they struck. 

But on the complete other hand, Abigail was supposed to be up with Charvel at that time helping her get ready. Meaning if it wasn’t Petra Bellweather, someone perfectly timed both Bellweather’s of childbearing age to conveniently be in the same place at the same time. 

Then the fact that Scylla was meant to leave with Raelle at 6pm (the exact moment the waiter’s and balloons struck), can’t go unnoticed. Did they want her to leave with Raelle at 6pm because the Spree knew about the attack? Did someone warn them? Does this explain why Anacostia was shocked to see Scyalla. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Why wasn’t she supposed to be there????

I’m just going to tap out of this theory now. 

But One More Thing

This might be a totally aggressive theory, and I have to credit the initial spark of this idea to my girlfriend, because during my 67th rewatch of this show, she brought up something I’d never thought of before. She asked me what Scylla’s purpose of attending the wedding was, and if the person she was supposed to bring to Penelope Road at 6pm really was Raelle? 

This got thinkING. What if it was someone else???

When you look back at all the times Scylla spends talking to her balloon mirror, they never actually say Raelle’s name. Sure, we’re meant to believe that Raelle is the obvious target. But what if that’s a cover?? What if she’s using Raelle to infiltrate something else and get to someone else??

It would make sense to use Raelle to target Abigail instead- an elite Bellweather. Like I said, this is a very unlikely theory but it would definitely be a shock to literally everyone (except my girlfriend apparently)...

Has the entirety of the show been leading us down a path to distract us from something else going on!? With every other ounce of brilliance here, I wouldn’t even doubt it.

In Conclusion

I went into this show expecting to be seen and represented as a queer woman, but what I actually got was so much more. What I got from this show is the realization that me being queer doesn’t have to have anything to do with me being a woman at all. My strength, and will, and mistakes, and growth, and grace, and support, and passion, are what make me a woman. Each of our stories are deserving enough to be told just because we are women.

I’ve struggled with that fact my entire life - my womanhood.

Femininity, feminism, and female empowerment are all things I’ve only recently connected with. I was raised in the culture of traditional gender roles. My dad went to work and my mom stayed home.  It’s not that I was necessarily taught that men and women must occupy those roles; it’s just that’s all I knew. To even further confuse my adolescent existentialism, not only was my mother a stay-at-home mom, she was also in the Marine Corps. And she never really understood the fact that not all women are as strong as she is.

My mom’s a badass, don’t get me wrong. She’s one of my hero’s. She came from a family who didn’t have much, and after realizing that she couldn’t afford to go to college, she enlisted instead. Six years later, she went to Penn State on a full-ride. She’s worked for every ounce of success that she’s seen, and she’s worked her ass off for it. But because of that, she struggles with the idea of feminism.

I can’t blame her too much. I understand the mindset she’s coming from. Growing up with that being instilled in my mind was hard though. Because it was expected that I, too, grow up to be a strong independent woman. 

I graduated in the predominantly male industry of agriculture (I want to be a farmer, okay!?). All through college, grad school, and post-grad school, I worked on farm after farm after farm. And it was there that I was introduced to the idea of toxic masculinity. I tolerated comments that I won’t even say out loud. I’ve “accidentally” been touched in more ways than I care to count. And what I hate the most about it all, is that I fucking tolerated it. I’d laugh it off, and then I’d walk away, mortified at what I’d actually just put up with. And while by no means do I blame my upbringing and home life on this, I do blame the upbringing and home life on the female characters I saw on television. If Brooke Davis was constantly and overly sexualized in high school then I guess I was supposed to, too. Right??

Sure, I still hear comments that I wish I didn’t. But I’m also surrounded by people and characters who taught me to never put up with the shit I once did. Female characters are portraying a storyline that people take more seriously now. They’re persevering. And that jumps off the screen in Motherland: Fort Salem. 

It’s taken me a while to realize how Raelle and Scylla have affected me as much as Clakre and Lexa did (two characters who literally awakened my sexuality). But I think I get it now. 

I love both Raelle and Scylla. Each one. Individually. As witches. As warriors. As females. As humans. As strong female characters. So, in a way, watching this show has awakened something else in me that I’ve also been suppressing all along. My femininity. My strength. My perseverance. 

Sure, Raelle and Scylla are my favorite ship right now, but it wasn’t them being together that made me fall in love with this show. Oddly enough, it was them being apart. It’s the fact that each one stands on her own as a unique and beautifully complicated story. And it’s the fact that I, too, am deserving of a beautifully complicated story.

Last Section, I Swear 

Motherland: Fort Salem is a magical mix of intense story building, relatable character development, and fascinating cinematography, all while being told through a gender and sexuality normative opposite of what we’re used to seeing. It’s a show that encompasses female strength unlike anything I’ve experienced before, where men are the background noise who aid in pushing the plot forward. It’s a show that deserves another season. And another and another and another and another. 

It’s a show I needed ten+ years ago, at 18 years old, freshly out of high school and wondering why the fuck I never had crushes on guys like everyone else my age did. It’s the show I needed so I didn’t always wonder why I was so obsessed with Peyton Sawyer and Summer Roberts and why I was the only one I knew who thought Torrance and Missy should’ve ended up together. It’s the show I needed to learn that my femininity doesn’t make me any less tough than my male counterparts. It’s the show I needed so I never put up with anyone’s shit. It’s the show I needed to teach me that I am storm and I am fury. 

It’s the show I needed then. But it’s also the show I’m so happy that I have now.

[strikearose]

It’s all about connections (SasuNaru) (Part 1)

Finally, here’s the very first part of the !YoutubeSasuNaru story - the idea’s quite silly but I had fun writing it so hope you guys enjoy it! (English is not my first language so please don’t be too much of a grammar nazi Summary : Sasuke has had that massive crush on a youtuber for years when Rasengan randomly starts going to his class. You can also read it on ff.net and ao3.  Part 1 (here), Part 2 (clic), Part 3 (clic), Part 4 (clic)

Poc.

The ball of paper missed its trajectory and crashed into the corner of the wall, barely half an inch away from the waste basket that originally intended. The student didn’t mind, though - he was far too busy trying to finish his economics presentation that was due for the next day.

Despite the fact that many of his classmates insisted on seeing him as a relentless hardworking student, Sasuke Uchiha was very much like any other normal twenty-one year old boy : a procrastinator at heart. So it was precisely on the night before the big day that he finally decided to finish it, even though he had had all of his vacation time to do so. Well - it would be a lie to say that it would take a superhuman effort to accomplish that task, but unfortunately the young man had another flaw: he was a perfectionist.

Even if he had to pull an all-nighter or give nothing back at all, Sasuke had always refused to be average -  because before (and in addition of) setting high standards for others, he would always set himself very high standards.

The black-haired man frowned as he read what he had written on the previous line and, impulsively, he ended up tearing up the entire page of his notebook and threw it on the floor.

However, the paper pellet did not make a Poc - as he had, this time, managed to reach the bin, it made a Ting instead : he had just received a notification.

His mind being elsewhere, the student rummaged around on his desk, looking for his phone. It wasn’t a text message, but a Youtube alert. One of his Subscriptions had just uploaded a new video. Sasuke took a quick look at the time (1:03 am) and let a loud sight when he saw how long the video was: fifty-seven minutes.

Of course, it has to be Rasengan.

He was the only one there who could publish a barely edited gaming review at such odd hours. One hour of uncut video was too much, even if it was to discuss the New Zelda. ‘That moron clearly don’t understand how the logistics of youtube work,’ the young man thought while stretching his legs under the table in order to get into a more comfortable position.

Because even though Sasuke might found the Youtuber’s marketing choices quite stupid and questionable - he was still his favorite. The only one he was following so.. assiduously.

And if he was really going to pull an all-nighter in order to finish his presentation on time, he might as well relax a little on the go

**

The coffee machine finally agreed (even though it sure had taken its’ sweet time) to give him his change money, but it still wasn’t not enough to lift Sasuke’s spirit. He really had spent his entire night working on the presentation. Well - he even had to give up his usual fifteen minutes of hot morning shower for just three minutes of shampoo-rinse-toothbrush altogether to make sure that everything was perfect.

But at last - there he was ! His eyelids stung horribly and he could feel the dark circles hollowing out his eyes, but everything was finally ready to make sure he would receive his usual congratulations for the seriousness and thoroughness of his work.

An amused grin escaped his lips when he looked into the face of Kiba Inuzuka, one of his classmates - a gamer and procrastinator emeritus who unfortunately didn’t have enough wits to back it up. With some luck, they would be called in alphabetical order for once and it would save Inuzuka the embarrassment of going Sasuke’s presentation.

Or maybe not.

Sasuke left the cafeteria just as the legendary lack of luck of the dog-loving student seemed to catch up with him:

« FOR FUCK’S SAKE NARUTO DON’T PUT YOUR DR PEPPER ON TOP OF MY COMPUTER ! »

**

« Hey Sasuke, did you also get Ichiraku’s mail about the internship? »

Shikamaru Nara calmly called out the black-haired young man as he sat down.

« Yes, I got it. And my documents have been signed and validated by the office earlier today.

- Cool, mine too, Shikamaru sighed. ‘t'was about time. »

He nodded his head knowingly: all the steps of searching, finding and getting the official documents concerning the internship signed were an unspeakable mess. Luckily, though, his partner this time was not a nutcase of Zaku Abumi’s caliber.

The Nara was placidly calm (Sasuke wouldn’t dream of seeing him threatening the Dean of blowing up the uni if he were to fail the exams) and quite intelligent: in short, he was one of his peers. And their little discussions were not too unpleasant.

« Well, we’ll talk later about carpooling?

- Yeah. And also dividing the task.

- Yeah, no problems, Shikamaru sighed as he turned away - tired in advance of the amount of work ahead. Ah, good luck with your presentation by the way. »

Pfft.

He didn’t even bother to answer.

Wishing him luck ? Sasuke gladly left ‘good luck’ to losers such as Inuzuka or Sarutobi who were very likely to be sending prayers at that very moment to every heavenly spirit existing, Jashin included, to have the course delayed.

Good luck ?

Sasuke definitely didn’t need it.

He was brilliant, meticulous and confident: talking in front of sixty or more people didn’t bother him at all - unlike the younger Hyuuga who getting more and more on the verge of fainting as she practiced her speech. More than that, it was even something he enjoyed. Knowing every aspect of a subject - mastering it ; defending it tooth and nail, tearing apart every remark made by his opponents until they surrender..

Some malicious people would say that Sasuke liked to boast on stage, that he was too arrogant. That he was far too pleased to thwart the traps set by his teachers, to answer the questions of his classmates with a smirk. A smirk just visible enough to make them understand how foolish he thought their interventions were. Or worse, that he had precisely expected for a moron to make that remark, thus allowing him to assert his assistance with a dutifully prepared response.

Saying that Sasuke Uchiha sometimes behaved like a complete asshole would be quite slanderous - indeed.

Because, no he did not.

He was brilliant, meticulous, confident… and humble on top of that.

« Hurry up, Kiba, I think it’s already started!

- You should have eat your lunch quicker ! »

The two latecomers were forced to take the front row seats of the auditorium while Sasuke finished to prepare. The slide show was on, the cable was connected - he was simply waiting for Mr. Hatake’s approval to start.

**

« And to finish with and anticipate some questions you may have, I’d like to add that while the data I used regarding market flows may be from two thousand and four, other studies that I have provided in the appendix tend to show that all exchanges concerning telephony have been profitable thanks to the takeover of the company by its competitor three years ago. »

Click.

He couldn’t have done better.

The teacher scribbled an umpteenth inscription on his rating form with a discreet approving wink and Uchiha smiled smugly.

Perfect - everything had gone on smoothly.

His onyx eyes wandered around the room: not surprisingly, half the auditorium hadn’t listen a word to what he had said, too focused on themselves (and the realization of their own projects).

Pfft.

The other half, however, completed his little moment of glory: some of them shook the head in bitterness, disappointed in what they had done in comparison, others gave him an admiring look. In the distance, Shikamaru nodded his head slowly while the Egyptian fury sited beside him, more belligerent, pretended to stifle a yawn.

But Sasuke quickly looked away, his mouth pinched, as he saw the thumb up that Lee Rock had kindly addressed to his attention. Lee was overall quite a nice fellow - Sasuke himself had to recognize it, - but no.

Just no.

« Well, if no one has any question, because I don’t have one either, let’s move on to the next presentation, Kakashi Hatake thought for a moment as he watched over the assembly. Inuzuka, you, in the front row? Well, that’s great, now’s your turn. »

Sasuke, quite disdainfully elated, was about to come down from the stage when a voice stopped him dead in his tracks:

« Oops, you’re in deep shit, Kiba! »

That particular tone was familiar to him.

Strangely familiar.

« Heyyyyy everybody! I know, I know, sorry! I promised to upload more often… But sometimes I just completely forget to turn the cam on. Or to remove the lens cover ahah! Anyway, today…- »

…

Come to think of it, Sasuke knows that he should have, at least, tried to make it look like it wasn’t that big of a deal. He should have try to tighten his jaw, clench his teeth or even hold his breath until he could return to his seat but of course - he didn’t.

That damn brain of his really had to go on mental-break down as he looked over to the lips from which those sweet, sweet words had just escaped.

He literally froze on the spot.

HOLY FREAKING FUCKING FUCK.

Why the hell did Rasengan have to show up in his class on the very-day he looked like utter shit?!

**

Sasuke let himself fell on a chair of the uni library. The research room, fortunately, was still quite empty - this haven of peace was the only place where, he was ready to stake his life on it, this stupid Inuzuka had not and would never set foot in.

Yes - Sasuke Uchiha had simply run away : with clenched fists, he had spent the forty-two minutes separating him from the end of the class to scrutinize meticulously the auditorium clock’s second hand. He had tried everything: scrolling down his twitter feed, pretending to be interested in what was happening downstairs, humming softly a bit of that stupid Latin-sounding song that his brother Itachi kept playing in the car, but nothing helped. That same frightening moment was played again and again in his mind:

Meeting certain cerulean eyes had literally made him go speechless. If he had for a long time now suspected the blond guy of drowning his instagram pictures with saturated filters, he was now forced to admit that this guy had the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

And by blue, Sasuke wasn’t talking about that pale, bland cyan that Ino Yamanaka, a high school ‘friend’ he often saw in the cafeteria, boasted about - no, Rasengan’s pupils were of a deep, bright, intense blue. It wasn’t a grey that stretched to be too light or green; his eyes were neither grayish nor turquoise: they were blue. Irrevocably blue.

Wonderfully blue.

The more he thought about it, the less Uchiha was willing to accept it: there was no way a guy who spent at least twelve hours a day on screens could have such marvelous eyes. He probably wore contact lenses, yeah, there was no other explanation.

All Sasuke could remember was meeting that seing that blue and then - nothing. His foot had stayed up in the air, his breathing hastened and he had stood there like an idiot - staring at the video maker who hadn’t pay the slightest attention to him, his mouth wide open.

How long had he been frozen there, like a fucking fangirl oozing hormones and sebum?

…

Thank’s God - an unfortunate accident had come to his rescue : Kiba Inuzuka and his legendary clumsiness who, probably not expecting Sasuke to suddenly freeze on the spot, had stumbled over the stairs.

PAF.

He had cracked his forehead open and the fit of hilarity (well - they didn’t need much at eight o'clock in the morning) in the auditorium had instantly brought Sasuke out of his enamored trance. He had quickly taken his attention away from the blond young man hurried back to his place, his heart beating fast.

Shit - what the hell was Rasengan doing in his college?

And why did he have do pull an all-nighter on the day before?

Sasuke looked around him and hesitated for a moment before putting his phone in selfie mode in order to inspect the extent of the damages.

Ouch.

He had rarely looked so bad. His eyes were red because of the entire night spent on a computer screen, his skin was tugging at him and - what the hell was that old scale on the edge of his eyelid ? But despair truly overcame him as he looked at the state of his hair - thank God it was still pretty clean, but there was absolutely no volume left. Nasty, long (too long) strands of hair were stuck to his temples and fell back a little on his forehead.

Shit - it was as if he was unpleasantly reviving his teenage years when - even though he still adamantly claimed to that day he had never turned emo, he had tried numerous dubious kind of hairstyles.

The Uchiha turned pale when it really came down to him : this was indeed the very first impression he ever had make on Rasengan.

**

When Sasuke set foot on campus the next day, curious glances were exchanged. While his complexion was as fresh and glowing as ever (he had gulped down five liters of water the night before), his hair was…-

Well - he rather gave the impression that he had swallowed five litres of gel. That observation made the usually impassive Shikamaru raised an eyebrow - for a moment he thought that he too had returned to his high school years. The Nara genius finally shrugged it off, plunged back into his textbook - well everyone had bad hair day every now and then.

**

Fourth day of the week - Sasuke grumbled as he put his computer back on his bag.

Of course, Rasengan had to disappear completely off the face of the earth as soon as he had decided to rock his best outfits to go to class.

It was as if Rasengan’s divine appearance had to be provoked by Sasuke losing some of his splendor.

…

The next day, Sasuke had the impudence of wearing a T-shirt… with a hole on it (an old accident involving a hook and his brother-in-law, a fisherman), but still - nothing happened.

There was not the slightest sign of the handsome blond with eyes too blue to be true. In a bad mood, Uchiha decided after lunch to put the Ralph Lauren sweater, which he’d slipped into his bag in the morning just in case, in top of his crappy shirt.

The following Monday came quickly but - no, Sasuke wasn’t expecting anything.

His decision to resume his daily abdominal sessions hadn’t been motivated by any hope of meeting a certain blond again.

He was doing it for himself - and for himself alone.

Although it was true that he didn’t even need it.

The coffee machine forgot inadvertently to give him a stirrer - Sasuke sighed. Great, the day was starting out just fine : how the hell was he supposed to retrieve the sugar that had fallen to the bottom of the cup and drink his coffee now?

« Ahah, I can’t believe it, I didn’t even finish my presentation and Hatake gave me the passmark ! »

Sasuke’s ears tensed imperceptibly as he recognized the voice of the injured-Inuzuka who had just entered the cafeteria.

« He felt sorry you had a concussion Kiba, Shikamaru was there too.

- Whatever, man ! I’m definitely going to pass that semester ! We got to go celebrate. »

Celebrate?

Like in a bar or club where Rasengan might also go to ?

Sasuke suddenly found his cup too heavy to carry around and chose to sit down at the table next to the one the two friends had chosen, any worry of lost-stirrer long forgotten.

« Mhhh. Shikamaru sighed and rummaged through his wallet, seeking enough change to buy himself a hot drink. The delicious scent of Sasuke’s coffee was tempting him. You know what I think about your improvised parties.

- Pfff, anyway, you hardly go out anymore now than you got hitched.

- It's not like that, Shikamaru sighed again. Tem and I simply go to different places. »

Sasuke rolled his eyes out, bored. He wasn’t there to hear about other people’s marital relationships: why didn’t they discuss Rasengan’s appearance AND disappearance instead?

The black-haired man had spend the weekend trying to figure something out, but nothing helped. Not a new video on Youtube (well, there was nothing that strange about that, Rasengan’s upload schedule had always been rather dubious), not a single clue on twitter or insta.

Nothing.

« …- never thought you’d actually manage to hook up with her. By the way…-, Kiba’s sentence was left hanging in the air. Oh, here he is. It’s about time! »

Sasuke’s pulse suddenly accelerated. Damn it.

He hadn’t expected Rasengan to pop up out of the blue, though.

Wasn’t his presence so close to his group of friends too suspicious?

Was he going to get busted that easily ?

He needed a pretext - quickly.

« Hey Shino. You’re here just in time, let’s go! »

Eyes glued to the poster for dark-metal band, Uchiha struggled to conceal his disappointment. 

Shino Aburame - of course.

Always where he wasn’t expected.

Jaw clenched, Sasuke pretended to take a closer look at the tour dates on the wall while the three companions got up to go to class. The disappointed student was about to do the same when a voice called out to him:

« I didn’t know you liked this kind of music, Sasuke.

- Uh… yeah.

- We’re performing next month at the bar around the corner, Shino let out a rare smile as he reached into his pocket to hand him something. Here, I’ve got plenty more.

- … Thanks ? »

Uchiha arched an eyebrow as he received a Radioactive Worms sticker.

…

Well.

It took all sorts to make a world.

**

Wednesday, nine o'clock - Sasuke sighed as he realized that his computer was already out of battery. He pulled the charger out of its’ case before giving a nasty glance to a student who was cackling a little too loudly a few rows away.

Inuzuka.

Again.

He was getting on his nerves more and more.

For how long has he been getting along like pigs in a blanket with Rasengan? And was he, as Sasuke strongly suspected, responsible of his mysterious disappearance?

It was all so damn confusing.

« Um, yeah? »

The microphone sizzled and Sasuke turned his attention back ont he lecturer who he had almost forgotten.

When he saw who standing next to him, he almost fainted.

Rasengan.

[void-knights]

The Coffee Shop and Students

Square Filled: Coffee Shop AU Pairing: Loki / Sigyn, Tags: coffee shop AU, Modern AU, Music Student Loki, Art Student Sigyn, Odin's A+ Parenting, Bisexual Loki, Bisexual Sigyn, Customers being terrible, Casual misogyny  Summary: Since Odin cut him off Loki (a music student) needed a job while attending Uni, this is how he becomes an exhausted Barista and how he meets Sigyn a sunny art student. Word Count: 7630 Written/Created for @lokibingo

AO3 Link

Loki had never understood Odin, Odin had been boasting to all his friends and associates that Loki had got into the best university. Loki was going to be standing amongst the elites of their country, it would open so many opportunities for him, especially amongst the government. It delighted Odin to no end.

“I’m studying music,” had been the words that made Odin give up on that one instance of pride and instead he went back to praising Thor who was heading off to get himself killed in the military, just like Odin wanted. As if that had gone so well for the PTSD riddled Hela who now worked in a wolf sanctuary up north somewhere.

Sometimes Loki thought Hela had the right idea. Give up and go to live in the wilds with a pack of wolves and a bunch of people who just understood you instead of trying to please everyone.

Still, Loki attended university, he had won this chance and was not about to give up on his dreams. But Odin made an ultimatum, while he would pay for Loki’s education no matter what (no child of his would be in debt) he was not supporting Loki any further if he continued to study music instead of politics.

Loki took the money for his courses and didn’t look back, until he blew through his savings at the age of nineteen and found himself in need of a job. How hard could it being a Batista be?

He was now twenty-one and understood just how fucking difficult it was. The job in of itself was easy, once he memorized the prices, the way to make the teas, coffees and hot sandwiches he was set. What was difficult was the dammed customers. Some he liked, some he dreaded, some he hated and some he forgot because they were either unremarkable or never ever returned.

His previous coffee shop had been two hours away from his dorms, this new one was twenty minutes on foot and ten on a bike. He preferred the manager, a stout cheerful red haired man who was understanding and didn’t make rude remarks about anyone who deviated from the norm. His previous manager had been a nightmare to work with, he was never happy.

The routine was fairly similar, the manager let the students do their work so long as it didn’t interfere with their jobs and the running of this place. For students like Loki there was not much practical work he could be doing, unlike Steve and his constant drawing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a dent in his research.

(Steve Rogers also happened to be one of his roommates which is how he found this job in the first place, the other two being Anthony Stark – slumming it with other students much to the delight of Odin who wanted Loki to be the billionaire’s best friend – and Natasha Romanov, she spoke Russian when angry or exhausted and somehow knew everyone. Loki was fairly certain she was either in a dance, theatre or art course.)

One bitterly cold autumnal day  she arrived, the woman with the golden-red curly hair and tan freckled skin. He’d never seen freckles on lips before, he thought it just lipstick until he realized the exhausted woman wasn’t wearing any make up. Understandable given it was currently six in the morning on a Friday.

She was exhausted but lovely, it was as though someone had given both autumn and summer physical form and blessed her with a cute smile and odd taste in jumpers.

Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “Siggy, you’re back?”

“No I’m haunting you, whooooo,��� she said waving her hands about, Loki stared, her mittens (that turned into gloves when folded back) were snake mouths. It was like having a pair of Kermit the frog heads for hands but yellow with red eyes.

“You promised to haunt Nat first,” Steve said pushing himself away from the counter half amused.

“Nobody living or dead has the balls for that,” ‘Siggy’ half shouted watching the blonde vanish into the back office. Loki heard Steve laugh, he had to agree with the pair of them, there was nobody could handle that. At least being dead was an advantage.

Steve returned slapping a pair of keys into the woman’s hand, “Now you have to buy something,” he said pointing to the menu, “Two items please.”

“It’s blackmail then?” the woman laughed, “Give me my usual.”

“No, that will kill you this early in the morning, try green tea instead, it’s good for you,”

“Such a mother hen, I know what I’m about and I want an eight shot espresso,”

“One large Coffee pitch black and a sandwich,” Steve countered.

“Deal,” the woman sighed dramatically folding back her mittens and digging out change from her jeans pocket. She got her order and left, her umbrella was also yellow, a bright yellow stood out in the grey gloom of the rainy morning.

“Who was that?” Loki asked Steve.

“Oh that, that’s Sigyn,” Steve answered sounding bored as though she was not the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. Steve was boring, Steve needed better eyes or glasses or everything, how could he not see what an attractive delightful woman Sigyn was? “We’re looking at houses together, so she’s borrowing my car.”

Loki’s mind skidded to a halt, what? They were only twenty-one, Steve didn’t come from money, he got into this very exclusive university through his exceptional talents, grants and only one loan. Which meant Sigyn-

“-Oh,” Steve looked up from his sketchbook, “You should join us,” it was half six in the morning nobody could blame Loki’s brain for conjuring images of sharing a bed with Steve and Sigyn, both were gorgeous.

Sense came back to him, Steve was dating Bucky, so why was Steve looking at houses with Sigyn?

“So we don’t have to spend the next couple of years in uni dorms, Sigyn is going for her masters and doctorate like me,” Steve answered Loki’s unasked question, he was rather good at that, Loki blinked, “It’s cheaper than the university dorms, so you’ll be saving money.”

“Who else have you asked?” Loki asked interested in the idea, anything to save money would help and the university dorms weren’t the best place to keep on living. They had rats inspecting the property.

“Natasha, Sam, Bucky and Tony, Tony asked Rhodey and I’m asking you, that should make up the numbers,” Steve said.

“Eight people?” Loki frowned.

“Bucky and I will be sharing a room, I think Rhodey’s happy to share with Tony and if they need to Sigyn will share with Natasha,” Steve said.

Loki considered it carefully, while more expensive Loki had his roommates had signed up for short term leases, by the semester in case they ever wanted to move out for any reasons. They had quickly learned by the first year that the dorms were not ideal but living on their own was impossible, this seemed an ideal solution.

“Well we have until the end of the first semester, let me know a week before I have other people interested,” Steve said and Loki nodded, thinking it over and not just because of the potential of getting to know Sigyn more.

A customer walked in, she carried a snotty toddler on her hip, a second kid walked alongside her and an exhausted teenager followed her decked out in every single awful thing Loki used to wear as an aspiring goth with delusions of what constituted good taste. It was nice to know some things never changed.

Loki played rock paper scissors with Steve, he won, until the snotty three-year-old was let loose and put his snotty hands all over the glass display unit. Steve smugly grinned at him as Loki went to retrieve the cleaning supplies, it didn’t help that the kid was now coughing and sneezing over everything.

“Ma’am please can you keep your child by your side,” Steve said, Steve was bright-eyed and bushy tailed even after years in retail, how? How was that possible, Loki’s charity towards customers had been chipped away within a month.

Of course the woman ignored him and let her kid do what they want, Loki couldn’t help it if the toddler tripped over his foot and crashed into its other sibling. He couldn’t help it if the mother carried the pair off embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as the teenager who paid for their order and carried it out for their mother.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Steve said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Loki grinned pleased with himself.

*****

Loki decided he hated customers when one cold evening one customer loudly decided to shout at Loki for having his long hair pulled into a ponytail and did he dare wear nail polish how dare he!

Steve of course stood up for Loki, because that was who Steve was, he wasn’t like his family who would happily laugh alongside the customer about how stupid Loki looked. Steve pointed out that this was a free country and that Loki tied his hair back for hygiene reasons, anyone with long hair had to do that regardless of gender.

Because Steve believed in things like freedom of speech, expression and so didn’t give a shit about your gender or sex. The woman shamed by Steve and his righteous speech took her coffee and slunk out of the coffee shop her tail between her legs.

“My hero,” Loki drawled causing Steve’s cheeks to pink, “So confident, I can feel the righteous surging!” Steve shook his head, “Hey want a rousing discussion about truth? Honour, patriotism, god bless-”

“I get it, you love me, lets move on,” Steve sighed completely resigned to Loki’s way of thanking him.

“Aww,” Both Steve and Loki turned to see Sigyn standing there, “Personally I’ve been on the end of Steve’s speeches, great as they are they tend to amp you up, you could lead an army with Steve’s speeches.”

“Take your heart attack juice and leave,” Steve said already filling a cup with eight espressos.

“That’s no way to speak to a customer!” Loki faked shock.

“Yes, how dare you!” Sigyn grinned, this is why Steve didn’t want Sigyn and Loki meeting, it would either be amazing or terrible, “I have rights as a customer!”

“I would demand compensation, a cheese and bacon toastie for instance,” Loki smirked at Sigyn.

“I – I wait what… excuse… what, Steeeeeeve, you did-”

“-No you, Sig are not allowed any more cheese at night,” Mother Hen Steve warned her, “Cheese gives you weird nightmares remember.”

“But it tastes so good! And that’s where the best ideas come from,” Sigyn said.

“It’s her right as a free patriot to eat cheese whenever she wants,” Loki said, yep Steve regretted them meeting. He decided it was worse than introducing Tony to Bruce and Jane Foster, the science trio were mad bastards doing crazy shit.

“Yes,” Sigyn nodded, “It is my democratic right to eat cheese and have weird nightmares. Now gimmie.”

“Even the nightmare about the tap dancing pig?” Steve asked, how he did that with a straight face baffled Loki, but he did.

“There were sooo many nipples,” Sigyn whispered haunted by some weird idea that did not seem that horrific until Loki noticed her frightened expression. “I change my mind,” She relented as Steve slid her order to her, “What time does your shift end?”

“Ten thirty why?” Steve asked checking the clock, an hour to go.

“I need your friend, the crazy bloke that talks to things?” that could only be one person.

“Tony,” Steve said

“Yeah, him, I need him to look at my laptop, it’s being a right old bastard, I think he might me on his last legs,” Sigyn sighed dramatically.

“Well you can wait here and walk back with us if you want,” Steve offered, Sigyn nodded and smiled thanking Steve as she claimed a peaceful corner all to herself.

The majority of the shift was spent dealing with people who were just starting out on their night out. Their manager closed up the shop after everything was done and kicked them out was he was sure everything was done for a second time.

The walk back to their dorms was a short walk filled with brief conversation and many yawns.

As soon as they were inside their dorm they were greeted by Tony and Natasha debating which was the best way to enjoy popcorn. Steve being the gentleman he was offered to take Sigyn’s black military coat, it hung alongside the other coats, her mittens stashed away in the pockets.

“Bacon popcorn is my go to,” Sigyn admitted pulling her bag to the side to take out her laptop.

“A woman after my heart,” Tony grinned at her.

“Good, fix my laptop genius,” Sigyn said handing it to him, “I got stuff I need protecting.”

“Like your porn stash?” Tony snickered.

“No, who keeps porn  on their laptop in this day and age, get a pornhub account,” Sigyn said without any shame, Steve rolled his eyes while Tony laughed, “Fix him, he’s got my research and digital works, he’s not giving them up.”

“Greedy bastard,” Tony laughed with her.

Loki didn’t have much opportunity to spend time with Sigyn beyond handing her a bottle of water, she was too busy hovering over Tony and her laptop like a mamma duck waiting for her duckling to return. Of course the old as fuck (it didn’t take a genius to see how old her laptop was) laptop was on it’s last legs.

But Tony being Tony backed everything up on a portable SSD drive for Sigyn and told her not to worry about the cost of the thing, he recommended Laptops within her budget but said she couldn’t really expect to do much artwork beyond them, especially 3D stuff.

Sigyn thanked him and went along her way, Tony being Tony bought Sigyn a laptop. Steve said that she had beat him half to death trying to get him to send it back, Tony stuck an unreasonable amount of stickers on the laptop so no. He couldn't send it back.

Apparently Sigyn was pleased but annoyed that he had been so nice, whatever she got him in return made the young man giggle and blush. They never told anyone what it was.

*****

Sigyn returned to the coffee shop one warmer autumnal afternoon wearing a faded white band shirt with holes around the V-neck, jeans worn and weathered with time and patched with embroidery with paint stained army boots and bracelets around her wrists. Her curly hair was braided, half cornrows on her left side and half box braids on the right with beads and charms hanging from the braids.

Today Steve had the day off leaving Loki to suffer with Jane, well no that was a lie. He liked Jane, he didn’t like her dating his brother (who was four years older than her) and neither of them had the warmth and cheer that Steve had, that cheer and warmth kept them going. Instead, Jane and Loki wallowed in their misery as customers made their lives hell.

One in particular seemed to think slapping Jane’s arse was a good idea, he of course was equally horrified when he slapped Loki’s arse only to find out Loki was a dude.

“Usual?” Loki asked a little amused when she seemed surprised he would remember.

“Actually no, it’s pumpkin spice season,” Sigyn patted out a beat, “Give me a large pumpkin spice latte.”

“You can pay for it like anyone else,” Loki grinned, it took a few seconds to realize what Loki meant before she laughed a little ducking her head. Several beads clicked against one another.

It was thanks to the lack of customers at this hour (either Sigyn was a pro at avoiding customers – which if the case, she needed to teach him that skill – or she worked weird hours. Being an art student he couldn’t decide which was the right choice,) that he was able to continue talking to her.

Sigyn sipped her latte pleased with the taste, there was a reason it was so dammed popular and it wasn’t because it was famous – or infamous. She savoured the spices as studied Loki closely.

He wasn’t what she had expected when Steve first talked about him, she was expecting some posh guy who wore jumpers and talked on a diamond encrusted I-Phone. Loki was quite… normal, well terms of fashion, in terms of looks he was pleasing on the eye.

“So Steve tells me you’re a music student?” She asked thinking given his background he would be some sort of classical music star someday. She had no idea what went into music, she liked what she liked and that was that.

“I am,” was all Loki added much to her frustration, until he laughed and added, “I have always had the talent, since I first played the piano.”

“Ah, so you  are a classical musician?” she asked, he looked more like he belonged in a Scandinavian heavy metal or folk band, she couldn’t get a good grasp on him.

“Not classical no,” He smirked, and she was left annoyed once again, the tease. She had to leave due to her classes starting soon, that and a new line of customers arrived, she bid Loki a fond goodbye and walked away.

Jane stared at Loki, “You like Sigyn huh?”

“What’s not to like about her?” Loki asked.

“She  does have a nice arse,” Jane agreed, that wasn’t her only ‘nice’ feature but Loki didn’t say it out loud and instead set to work getting the next round of orders in.

*****

It was one of  those weeks, Loki was battling with a mental block, papers were due, he had run out of shampoo and resorted to Natasha’s so now he had to deal with frizzy hair and worst of all the customers.

The company had decided in their eternal wisdom to release a complicated new creation to beat their competition, this bastard of a concoction was named the ‘Halloween Unicorn’ it was a nightmarish creation of a kid that had been fed too much sugar.

Yet apparently the customers all loved it, it was an over glorified pumpkin spice latte with extras that came with its own Halloween themed cup. But it was popular, so popular that they had sold out on day two after Instagram stars starting peddling it.

Now everyone needed a picture with one, most frustrating were the people who tossed their drinks after getting the pictures. Having to empty rubbish bins that were half filled with coffee was no pleasant task. Thankfully they had heavy-duty bags that did not leak (after years of experimentation) the downside, they were heavy.

God forbid they run out of the special cups or the unicorn horns and unicorn shaped biscuit and sprinkles that the dammed drinks came with. What was wrong with a basic pumpkin latte?

Sigyn was the next customer not that Loki noticed in his exhausted state, not until she smiled at him, customers did not usually smile at him.

“Pumpkin Latte please,” she requested and Loki almost wept with joy, no overly fancy orders, just a simple god fearing pumpkin spice latte. She dropped her usual tip in the tip jar and took her order with no fuss or additional stress.

She was seated by the window perched on her bar stool making use of the Wi-Fi as she typed away on her brand-new laptop. It was a garish yellow colour that somehow suited Sigyn completely. He took the next order, things were looking up, this woman asked for a completely normal black coffee.

Then the new wave of unicorn lattes started pouring in, rush hour meant all hands on deck. Steve and Jane were manning the coffee orders, their manager took care of the food and Loki was left to deal with the customers, he rang up the orders and passed them on. He barely noticed Sigyn leaving, he couldn’t call out to her which annoyed him.

It was five in the evening when things started to die down, the students had been dealt with and the customers were thinning.

“Back again?” Steve asked sounding amused by something.

There stood Sigyn, her curly hair pulled back and held by a piece of cloth, her left cheek smeared with a blackish paint. She wore blue painters overalls with yellow wellington boots.

“Only because I get a freebie,” she said presenting the stamp card.

“Pumpkin spice?” Steve didn’t need to ask, he was already making the drink.

“Yes, feed me,” Sigyn whispered.

“Have you spent your weekly budget already?” Steve asked.

“It’s Saturday be in awe that I lasted this long,” She said as Steve went to check with their manager that it was fine giving his friend free food.

Their manager being nice and Steve being the best worker he had meant that Sigyn got her food. “So how’s your project going?” Steve asked delivering the food to Sigyn’s stable by the window.

As Sigyn took her first bite of the bacon and egg grilled sandwich the moan she uttered did  things to Loki, things that he should not be experiencing in a coffee shop, “Ah uh,” Sigyn wiped the bit of egg off her bottom lip, Loki struggled to tear his eyes away from her, “Well, I completed it.”

Steve looked up annoyed, “You… of course you did,” He sighed resigned to his fate it seemed.

He couldn’t listen in on the rest of the conversation because a customer came up to the counter, the woman had an expression that screamed she could either be a sane and nice customer or about to make their lives hell for the next ten minutes.

She chose hell.

“It’s not very professional to have your hair like  that ,” she said to Loki, his hair was in a ponytail for sanitary, health and safety reasons, not for fashion purposes.

He was used to it, “May I take your order, please?” he asked she would need to do better than that to get through the thick skin retail and service work had endowed him with.

“You shouldn’t have your nails painted,” she said, he was wearing gloves again for sanitary and health reasons, they all did.

Loki simply met her stare which made her uncomfortable, “Ma’am may I take your order please, there are other customers waiting,” he pointed out to her politely.

The woman huffed and puffed, was she somehow expecting to magically summon the manager from his office? Loki waited, the customers were telling her to hurry up and that just would not do. She broke down completely, shouting at Loki.

It was oddly nostalgic. Like Yuletide with the family. Until her words struck a particularly raw nerve, the string of homophobic slurs she spewed left the few people that did not have their phones pulling out their phones to film what was happening.

That summoned the manager, who being ex-army took no shit. The woman left without her unicorn latte (thank fuck for small mercies) and a polite banning by the manager.

Loki tried not to let such things affect him, after all she was just a nameless woman, one of many that passed through this store. But that did not mean her words did not sting. Steve took over the counter allowing Loki to make the coffee’s in peace, the woman’s tirade made people overly generous with their tips, which was nice at least.

Sigyn was sat at her usual spot, when he looked up he caught her eye she offered him a smile before returning to her work. It was an hour later when they had no customers that Loki went to sit with her, to learn what she was working on.

She had pulled off the top half off her overalls, wrapping the sleeves around her waist to prevent the rest falling down as she worked on her essay. For an art student she was muscular and very freckled, there didn’t seem to be an inch free of freckles.

“I’ve got to write an essay on Edmund Dulac,” She said he had no idea who that was, so she turned her screen to him, he nodded still having no clue who he was. “Are you okay?” she asked him which for a few moments baffled him completely.

He realized she was talking about the incident with the woman, “Yes, it is something you have to get used to,” he said she looked annoyed on his behalf.

Fiddling with a leather bracelet Sigyn smiled at him, “It’s not the most ideal time but I can’t keep faffing about with this, do you uh, well not coffee how about uh drinks sometime, with me?” she asked him.

It took him a moment to get over how adorable she was when she was flustered, that blush warming her warm brown skin beautifully. “You are asking me out?”

“Y-yep,” She nodded, “I mean, if you want to?” she was fascinated to know what he looked like outside the coffee shop.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Wait really?” She asked surprised why? She was gorgeous, she was the beauty that most people on social aspired to be. “Oh, alright, um, my phone number,” she said.

He slid his phone in her direction, so she could type it in, “Why are you so surprised?” Loki asked her really wanting to know.

“Oh you know, because your hot and I thought you might already be dating someone and well It’s uh been a while since I’ve dated anyone,” She admitted handing him his phone back.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been in an actual relationship with anyone, he had taken to one-night stands, mostly to experiment with his sexuality and try to pin it down. Sigyn smiled at him, and he believed her at that moment, she really was attracted to  him for some reason.

Wasn’t that interesting?

*****

It was near the end of autumn by the time Sigyn and Loki could find the time to just spend a day together, what with their conflicting schedules, work and deadlines. But in the meantime they texted, messaged, phoned one another even taking a few moments to talk and get to know each other in the coffee shop.

It wasn’t as though they were strangers when they finally met up then, but they didn’t really know each other that well either. It helped calm him down as he stood waiting for her in the meeting spot.

Perhaps it had not been the greatest idea to come dressed in his usual blacks, with dashes of green and gold here and here. Some older folks were certainly disapproving of the way he dressed making him double guess his choices.

There was a part of him that wondered if Bruce was right, and he should have toned down his wardrobe for first impressions outside the coffee shop. The longer he waited (he cursed himself for needing to be early) the further he spiralled into panic and misery until finally a soft “Hey!” made him look up from his phone.

Sigyn stood there smiling wearing a knee-length mustard yellow jumper dress, thick black tights and black thigh high boots. Her knitted green and yellow scarf was ridiculously long with her usual brown backpack hung over one shoulder. Her hair had been freed from any restraints and now it was determined to be noticed the golden-red curls and coils framing her face seemed almost dazzling.

“Hello,” he greeted standing up, this was a little strange. Did they need to be in a coffee shop to feel normal? She laughed softly to herself, “What’s so funny?” for a dreadful second he imagined her laughing  at him or something he chose to wear.

“Sorry, I was just thinking it’s a little weird seeing you in people cloths,” she smiled at him.

“I wear people cloths when I’m working,” He said.

“Your uniform is not people cloths, it’s the opposite, devoid of personality,  this , feels like you,” she said grinning at him. She always seemed to be smiling or grinning. “How does this even work?” she asked him running her finger along the diagonal line of the zip on his leather jacket.

“Well you take the zip,” he began showing her the zip beneath his own black and green scarf and grinning when she rolled her eyes amused.

“Smart arse,” She said slapping him playfully on the arm. He did his best not to flinch, she noticed and thankfully said nothing, years of putting up with Thor and his friends had left their mark on him. She still smiled, pretending for his sake, or comfort that she had not noticed, something he appreciated. “So what now?”

“Has it  that long for you?” He teased her she blushed an overly pleasant shade of pink as she walked alongside him.

“If I say yes would you be put off?” she asked him, hoping that he would not, some people were odd about people not dating, like it was a part of the curriculum for students.

“Of course not, I am more surprised you actually showed up,” he confessed though with a teasing tone as to not appear genuine. He did not wish to come across as needy or desperate.

“I wanted to see what you looked like in leather and skin tight jeans,” she waggled her eyebrows at him, like two charming caterpillars they danced, she was weirdly good at manipulating her eyebrows he thought transfixed for enough time to make Sigyn laugh.

“And?” he asked, he should have toned it down! It was ridiculous to think someone as warm, soft and pleasant as Sigyn would like this. Stark’s offer of a shirt suddenly seemed appealing.

“I approve,” She grinned at him, his whole body sagged in relief, she must have felt it because somehow that sunny smile seemed to grow a lot brighter. “So… what do people do on dates these days?”

He didn’t know, again dating had not been something he’d been overly interested in up until meeting Sigyn. Sigyn grinned at him, she knew he didn’t know either!

“People usually go for coffee,” He said lamely.

“ You  want to go for coffee?” She asked him sounding amused, “That’s like asking me to spend my free time in a garage.”

“You work I a garage?” Loki asked suddenly he remembered something Tony had said about having Sigyn look at his car, he assumed he meant in the ‘I want to ask someone out’ way and not the actual practical way.

“Yep,” she said leading him through the streets with an idea, “My dad was the type that made his kids learn all the skills they would need in later life. He didn’t want me being ripped off if I ever managed to buy a car.”

Funny all his father gave him was self-esteem issues and anxiety, this was not something you said on a date, Loki knew that at least instead he said “My father just tossed money at people to solve whatever little problems he had.”

“Ah, you see that’s no good, I don’t care how rich you are everyone should know basic home maintenance,” Sigyn said, which sounded like good sound practical advice, the sort of ‘advice’ that Odin would shout at his children when telling them to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

Instead, he answered, “Well my mother did teach me how to maintain a healthy garden, I know how to keep a vegetable patch and herb garden,” he said thinking it silly.

Sigyn turned to him awed like he had just said the greatest thing anyone could think of, “Really!? I’m useless with plants, well aside from Frank and Hudson.”

“Frank and Hudson?”

“Frank’s this spider-plant that just refuses to die, seriously I forgot to water him, and he just keeps on living and Hudson’s this Jade plant, I got him when he was a wee sprout as a kid, the bastard won’t die,”

“You make it sound like they are making your life an inconvenience!” he laughed.

“They grow Loki, they grow!”

“That’s what a plant is supposed to do,”

“Yes, but do you know how big twenty-year-old jade plants can be and how many babies a spider plant produces, lots!” She flapped her hand about.

He couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of Sigyn on her one woman crusade to defeat two rather average houseplants that refused to die. She puffed out her cheeks pretending to be annoyed as he laughed, in truth she was delighted to see him so relaxed. This was nice.

Sigyn had taken him to the natural history museum, some place he had yet to visit despite living in the city for two years already. It was fascinating and much better than visiting a coffee shop. Even if suddenly he was craving a cup of coffee, his work had cursed or conditioned him!

The date went well, he did think it odd that they had not kissed on the first date, was that normal? He wasn’t sure but there was plenty of hand holding and laughter. Natasha said that was a good sign when he mentioned the date to her later that evening.

“The issue you got right now,” Natasha said stretching with Loki, they both attended evening dance classes together, pole dancing to be exact. It was a great way to keep in shape, “Is whether she’s aware of your sexuality?”

He had neglected to mention that, usually wasn’t something he needed to mention, “It  might have slipped my memory,” Loki admitted mirroring Natasha as they went into the next stretch.

“Hmm, well you should get on that,” he would have done had dance classes had not left him close to breaking. Natasha and Loki staggered home looking as though they had been through hell and back and nobody had allowed them to collect the t-shirts on the way out.

So it wasn’t until he saw Sigyn the next day with Steve in the coffee shop that he suddenly remembered. Mostly it was the girl very obviously checking out Sigyn that helped him remember what Natasha suggested.

He knew from watching others that it could be a make or break thing, apparently some people weren’t comfortable with their partners being bisexual go figure! He didn’t want to mess things up with Sigyn, things seemed to be going good, nice even.

“Isn’t this supposed to be Jane’s shift?” Steve asked him, not as a co-worker but a customer today. The man had bland coffee tastes, Sigyn got her usual pumpkin spice latte, she was determined to fill up before they were replaced with the peppermint drinks come winter.

“Yeah but I have extra classes this afternoon, she had extra classes this morning, so we switched places,” Loki rattled off.

“Oh okay,” Steve said grabbing his boring coffee and adding no sugar or milk, he was just that type that liked his drinks simple. Sigyn was halfway finished with her latte before Steve could even dare attempt drinking his scalding drink.

“Sigyn can I have a word?” he asked, there were no other customers waiting for a drink at the moment so now was a good time.

“Sure,” Sigyn nodded, Steve pretended to make himself scarce by reading a book at Sigyn’s usual spot by the window, clearly he was waiting for Sigyn. Right! They were classmates. He’d almost forgotten. “What’s up?” she asked looking a little worried.

“Ah uh, I should have mentioned before,” Loki said thinking it was a little weird to mention this here and now, he should have waited, damn it, but now he couldn’t just not say it could he? “I,” he hesitated, Sigyn nervously began downing her coffee like a mad woman, “I’m bi?”

“Oh… that’s all?” She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, a nervous giggle escaped her, “I uh, mean no offence or anything Loki but it was kinda obvious?”

“You can’t tell if someone is bisexual by the way they dress and act,” Loki pointed out, well Sigyn was amazing maybe she could?

“True,” She nodded radiating cheer and warmth as she pulled out her phone and showed him the screen, “But meddling billionaire’s have no filter when you ply them with whisky.”

It was a photo of Loki and Tony kissing… well no Loki’s hand was quite clearly down Tony’s pants. It had been a rather strange night of drinking and more drinking, apparently Loki decided that night he was Bi and being a scientist needing to test this theory out. Loki had of course been happy to have an attractive guy make out with him, apparently Tony had a thing for potential rock stars? It didn’t matter, Tony got his answer and Loki got a half remembered fuck, it was a good half remembered fuck.

“I am going to murder him,” Loki threatened, it was a lie of course and Sigyn laughed, clearly not offended at all and used to Tony’s antics.

“If it helps,” She said quite calmly, “It doesn’t bother me that you’re bi Loki, we have that in common.”

“Oh, ah, I see,” Loki smiled, “Well good?”

“Good,” Sigyn grinned, “Does this mean we’re still going to meet up this weekend?” she asked.

“Of course, I want to see how you react to plants,” he smirked.

“Why plants?” Sigyn asked caught off guard, but Loki refused to reveal his plot to show her around the plant exhibition. It wasn’t just about plants, there was also some arts and crafts sections and something about home-made wine. “I knew it, you’re on  their side, plotting against me.”

“Ah yes, me and my legion of hydrangeas,” Loki smirked.

“That’ll be a good band name,” They both jumped, there was Natasha… in daylight hours looking as though she hadn’t slept a week. By her side Tony, who had not slept in a week, “Legion of hydrangeas.”

“Nah you want something more badass, Legion of Cacti,” Tony said waking up now he was within arms reach of coffee. Sigyn pulled her coffee cup away from him.

“Wouldn’t you be more badass with Legion of Wolfs bane?” Sigyn countered.

“Wolfs bane legion?” Steve countered.

“Just take your coffee and go, all of you," he said filling up the various cups. Natasha liked Mocha, Steve was happy with his still scalding coffee, Sigyn got her refill of Pumpkin Spice while Tony had what Steve called heart attack juice.

“You’re supposed to smile when-” Steve grabbed Tony by the shoulder and gently steered him out of the building.

“Thanks,” Natasha nodded, that was all he was going to get out of the exhausted… possible dance student. There was some speculation she might be a classics student.

Before Loki could say goodbye to Sigyn she brought him into a kiss, it was a soft quick thing, nothing but a fond goodbye but it managed to turn his legs to jelly and leave him with a dopey smile as she pulled away grinning. He was to busy mooning over Sigyn as she left, especially the way her hips swayed that he forgot to mention the traces of black lipstick.

The girl that had been checking Sigyn out glared at him, ‘ Yeah she’s mine! ’ she stuck out his tongue, she surprised him by returning the gesture.

 Their second date went well until Sigyn lost a fight with a prickly pair cactus, Tony laughed and laughed, the fact that they had to buy said cactus because it now had her blood on it made Tony laugh even harder. He bought the cactus and crown and sash, crowning it the vanquisher of Sigyn.

“I told you,” Sigyn groused poking her bandaged forearm, “Wait till Fred and Hudson hear about this, it’ll make them bold!”

Loki kissed her, she smiled at him in a very silly way that made his insides squirm and wiggle in delight. Her feathery touches, her patience all made him light up, he was certain others were mocking him for becoming so sappy, but he didn’t care.

She responded to him with affection and kindness, something he had not really had in a relationship before. At least not on  this sort of level. Sigyn was never ashamed about hugging him, or just gently brushing her fingers through his hair. Why did that one feel so good? He liked her braiding his hair or just running her nails along his scalp.

“Next you’ll be writing love songs and giving each other promise rings,” Tony fluttered his eyes at Loki the next morning. Ah so the mad bastard had finally got some sleep.

That… might be a little true, he had begun to write one (just one!)  Song for Sigyn, he couldn’t help it, when inspiration struck he had got it down on paper. But he would not admit that Tony, not when he was operating at full brain capacity while Loki was struggling to remember what day of the week it was.

Instead, he sent Sigyn a text ‘ Stark is annoying me, send help! ’

Her response was instant ‘ Mention Justin Hammer ’ why? Who was that? She sent him a list of conversation starters that included that name.

“Did you notice the university newspaper this morning Natasha?” Loki said.

“We have a newspaper?” Tony asked.

“Apparently someone called Justin Hammer-” Tony hissed like a feral cat and zoomed off shouting something about cheap copy cats.

“Tell Sigyn that was mean,” Natasha said holding up her mug to be filled with heart attack juice.

Loki later learnt that Tony had been the originator but Sigyn had perfected this particular blend of coffee so strong it could fuel rockets. Loki stuck with natural coffee, coffee that did not make people stay awake for days on end.

Loki on pure instinct refilled her mug, then looked horrified when he realized what he had done! The corporations  had conditioned him! Natasha smirked, “Serves you right,” she said sliding off the plastic barstool Bucky had fished out from a dumpster.

*****

Usually it wasn’t a good idea to move into somewhere with a girlfriend of a couple of months, but the rent was cheap and the house was decent enough. Much better than the university dorms anyway. They had plenty of space in spite of the fact eight people lived here, there was even a small garden.

It wasn’t a good idea to share a bedroom either, but nobody could blame Loki and if their relationship ended suddenly for some weird reason Sigyn could share or swap with someone else. But Loki didn’t like thinking about that.

He liked his relationship with Sigyn, she made him feel loved, special, like he could do anything he wanted and that was okay. She supported him, coming to the café’s and clubs he played at never anything short of happy grins and warm affection.

Whenever he felt those pangs of ‘I’ve fucked up and should have listened to Odin’ moments she was there holding his hand reminding him it was okay to follow his dreams. He could not understand why someone as loving and kind as Sigyn would want him, but he could not imagine his life without her now.

In turn, he supported her art shows, Sigyn it turned out was a talented painter, both with traditional and digital mediums. She was already building a regular client base and looking to publish some books, which featured her work, there was also talks of a graphic novel that she and Steve were working on together. Something about an Atalantian prince.

She liked to draw him, he didn’t mind, he was in fact flattered she found him that interesting. He was always happy to spend time with her regardless of what they were doing, especially when the Uni classes became more serious. It was nice to just share a comfortable space with someone, someone who warmed him and reminded him to carry on. That everything was okay.

Finally, Loki got to meet Fred and Hudson, Hudson was huge, Sigyn had grossly undersold just how big he was. He became the Christmas tree that year he was so big. But Fred, the spider plant who hung from the ceiling was almost as long as Loki was tall, clearly Sigyn had given up dealing with the babies and just let him grow thinking it would kill off the plant.

“Maybe you have a secret superpower-” Loki began to suggest as he placed them in the most ideal locations.

“-Plants are spiteful,” Sigyn hissed threatening the plant who did not respond.

“Maybe that’s what feeding, all that hate?” Loki suggested.

“Oooh that’s sneaky, so typical of-” Sigyn paused looking at Loki who was struggling not to laugh, he blinked not understanding why she had suddenly become so serious, “You have pretty eyes.”

He blushed always caught off guard by her compliments he couldn’t help it, she smiled taking hold of his hand and kissing him. His entire being fluttered as she slowly deepened the kiss forgetting for a moment that they were in the process of decorating the house when Bucky walked in complaining about the new coffee machine.

“Loki!” Bucky yelled, “You're the coffee expert-” Loki groaned pulling away from Sigyn who giggled, her whole body rocked against him.

“-I should have worked in the bakery,” He pinched his nose, though he could not regret his choice of work now, it had led him to meeting Sigyn.

“You know… I need help with  our  bed,” Sigyn offered him an escape, and he took it with a grin,  our bed did sound rather lovely.

[andersd1]

Life Saver Chapter 1

WARNING

This story contains explicit language and sexual situations. Do not proceed if you are offended by such Content.

Daan took a quick look at himself in the mirror by the door. He didn’t need to be concerned about his hair as he kept it in a crop cut, no need for brushes, combs or gel. Taking a deep breath Daan breathed out and said, “Let’s do it”! Daan had accepted a job with the BSAA at their new compound. Daan was the new HR Liaison between HR and the military personnel. He would be helping connect personnel with benefits, resources, counseling and help with other issues. Even though Daan was not military, the BSAA would hire civilians for positions like this. Daan had a Master’s degree in Social Work and had taught Social Work for over ten years. It would be exciting to work with his friend and former student Samantha Nicks. Samantha had been one of his top students and the two became very fast friends.

  He had a meeting with Melanie Burden, the head of HR and also Daan’s friend. Daan had worked with Melanie at an agency before he started teaching. As Daan pulled up to the gate, he waited for the military guard to approach his car. “May I help you sir?” asked the guard. “Daan Anderson to see Melanie Burden in HR”. The guard asked for Daan’s ID and returned to the guard shack and made a call. A moment later the guard returned to the side of Daan’s car and returned his ID. “Follow this road to Quadrant A building and park in the green spaces”, the guard informed him. Daan smiled and proceeded down the road, “Quadrant A building” Daan repeated to himself. As Daan continued down the road he could see a structure coming into view, yet still far off.

  Daan did not know how enormous the structure was until he began to get even closer. “Jesus”, Daan said to himself. “This place is gigantic…shit”. Daan began to feels nervous, how would he ever find his way around in this place. Daan could see military personnel running in the fields and practicing what looked like combat routines. Daan seen a sign with an arrow pointing QUADRANT A BUILDING, so he followed the arrow to the left. Daan parked his car (making sure he was in a green space) and approached the door. Once through the door Daan was met by a soldier sitting at a desk. “May I help you sir”, the soldier asked. “Daan Anderson to see Melanie Burden in HR, I’m a new hire”. The soldier did not seem to interested and directed Daan to place his bag on the scanner belt, place his keys, wallet and phone into a small plastic container.

 He then directed him to step through the metal detector. Daan passed through without setting off the machine and collected his items and bag. The soldier standing in front of him handed him a temporary badge and instructed Daan to follow the hallway down to Office A-17. Daan gave a polite smile and proceeded down the huge hallway. The office doors were odd numbered on the left and even numbered on the right. A-13, A-15, Ahh, A-17. Daan opened the door and was greeted by the smiling face of Samantha Nicks. The two squealed like teenagers and immediately hugged. “OH MY GOD, I can’t believe we are going to be working together, I’m so excited that you are here”, stated Samantha. It was really good to see Samantha again, they haven’t been able to spend that much time together lately due to different work schedules.

 Daan and Samantha had met for lunch a few weeks ago and that’s when she told Daan about the new Job she had taken. “I just got hired at the BSAA to work in the HR department and there is another opening for a HR Liaison, Oh my god, you should totally apply”, stated Samantha. “What the hell is the BSAA”, asked Daan. “Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance”, stated Samantha. “And you work there, isn’t it a little… un-nerving” stated Daan. “Nah, we don’t deal with any of that stuff just HR related things”, said Samantha. “Besides, watching all those hot military guys running around, and carrying those big guns…mmm, mmm”, joked Samantha. “Maybe I should look into it”, stated Daan. Daan did look into it and applied, he was not sure if he would actually get the position, but he definitely needed a change.

 Daan loved teaching, and being on the advisory board for the county’s Social Service agencies, but it just wasn’t fulfilling as it used to be. It had only been six months since he called off the engagement with Max and gave his ring back to him. Max had lied and cheated, not to mention shattered Daan’s heart. No, this was exactly what he needed, a new job, a new location…a fresh start. “Mel is waiting for you in her office”, stated Samantha. Everyone had called Melanie “Mel” for short. Daan knocked on her office door and heard “Come in”. As Daan entered the office, Mel got up and came across the room to greet him with a huge hug. “Oh god it is so good to see you and to have you working with me again” said Mel. “Thanks again for the job Mel, I promise to live up to whatever standard you set”, stated Daan.

 “Of course you will, why do you think I hired you” teased Mel. As the two of them sat down to complete yet more paperwork Mel began to inform Daan about the compound. “Here is your security badge, since you are HR you will have more clearance than most others, you don’t have full clearance in the compound, but once you scan your badge you may also need to enter your personal code to gain access to more sensitive areas of the compound”, stated Mel. “Speaking of the compound, this place is freaking huge, how do you find your way around”, asked Daan. Mel reached inside her desk and took out something folded up. “Here” said Mel. “What is it”, asked Daan. “A map” said Mel with a laugh. Daan unfolded the map a little and was instantly panicked, he had never been good at following maps.

  “Couldn’t I just use the GPS on my phone”, Daan joked. “Not yet”, stated Mel, “They are still working on getting the satellite link up”. Daan sat looking somewhat befuddled as he was thought he was making a joke. Mel got up and walked over to a dry erase board and picked up one of the markers. “Okay, so each quadrant is about the size of a standard city block and contains three floors, there are four quadrants. Quadrant A which is where we are, it houses HR, IT, Admin, finance, two of the generals and the director Jill Valentine. Quadrant B houses the indoor training facility and cafeteria, feel free to use the indoor firing range or the gym and definitely avoid the cafeteria, the food is awful. Quadrant C is military personnel housing, there are also more housing available on the East side of the compound for military families.

  Quadrant D is the Infirmary and Research. They are still working on D Quadrant, they have been having some problems with the wiring or something like that. So basically the whole compound takes up four square city blocks. Each quadrant is connected by pass through's so you don’t have to go outside to access another quadrant. Oh and we do have carts that you can use if you don’t feel like walking. Overwhelmed yet, asked Mel. “It’s going to take some time, but nothing I can’t handle” stated Daan. “Good, your and Samantha’s office is on the second floor, and yes they are right next to each other” laughed Mel. Daan was very happy to hear this. “Samantha will show you where they are, Welcome aboard Daan. Samantha had hooked her arm inside of Daan’s as they walked down the hallway to their offices.

 She was very giddy and completely thrilled to be working with Daan. Daan notice a very attractive redhead in uniform coming from the opposite direction. The officer smiled and nodded to them both as he passed by. “GODDAMNNN, Daan whispered to Samantha and turned around to look in the man’s direction who was also looking back in Daan's direction. “I know, it’s like working in Candy Land” Samantha whispered back. Daan was definitely going to like working here. After getting somewhat settled into his new office, there was a knock at his door. Daan looked up and seen a man standing in his doorway. “Yes”, stated Dan. “Sir, I’m Private Williams from the IT department”, stated the young man as he saluted. “Oh you must be here to set up my laptop and network, and you don’t have to salute me, I’m not an officer, said Daan.

 “Yes sir, I mean no sir. I mean I am here to set everything up for you but your equipment will not be in until tomorrow, Sir. “O, well should I call you in the morning to check and see if it has arrived, or” stated Daan. “No sir, I will call you when everything has come in and set a time with you to complete set up, Sir”, stated the young soldier. “I see, okay well I guess I will see you tomorrow then”, stated Daan. “Sir, Yes Sir”, the young man started to salute but caught himself. With military precision the young man pivoted around strode away. Daan spent the rest of the afternoon reading manuals, policy and procedure guidelines for non-military personnel working with military personnel, the BSAA sure did like their rules. Samantha had taken Daan out for dinner and a drink to celebrate his first day.

  The compound was like its own town. There was a grocery store, a Café, bar/restaurant and so much more. As Daan sipped on his glass of Chardonnay and nibbled the great pizza he and Samantha chatted about future plans and all of the fun they were going to have together. When Daan arrived home he was exhausted. Daan looked around the room at all the boxes he had to yet unpack and put away. Instead Daan walked out on to his back porch and sat down and took in the scenery. His house set right up next to a forest in the back and he had a perfect view of the lake. As Daan lost himself in thought his mind wandered back to a time when he was happy…with Max. Why did he have to break Daan’s heart the way he did. Daan snapped out of the bad trip down memory lane and busied himself unpacking boxes.

  Daan met Samantha in the parking lot and walked in with her. As Daan sat in his office reading a report his desk phone rang. “HR Liaison Daan Anderson” stated Daan. “Sir, this is Private Williams with IT, I ‘m sorry to report to you that your equipment was not included in this morning’s shipment” stated the soldier. “Of course it wasn’t” Daan breathed. “I’m sorry sir, I did not hear you” said the soldier. “Nothing, it’s alright I understand. Please let me know when it does arrive”, said Daan. “Right away sir”, said the soldier and Daan hung up the phone. Daan heard a knock at his door and looked up to see Mel standing there. “Good morning, how are things going”, asked Mel. “Good, well my equipment did not arrive this morning so it looks like I will have to wait until tomorrow to get started”, stated Daan.

 Mel looked at Daan and suggested that he should visit the other quadrants and introduce himself instead of staying cooped up in the office. “That is a great idea, and it will give me the opportunity to learn my way around” said Daan. As Daan entered B quadrant he saw soldiers working out in the gym and smiled to which he received nods of acknowledgement. Daan went to the second floor where the firing range was but thought it a bad idea to try and get someone’s attention that was firing a weapon. Daan passed through C quadrant and did not want to knock on any of the doors seeing how this was people’s private quarters and Daan did not feel comfortable doing this. As Daan entered D quadrant he notice that some of the lights were flickering on and off, “must be the electrical problems Mel mention to me” he thought to himself.

 Daan saw two signs, one said INFIRMARY with an arrow pointing to the left and one that said RESEARCH with an arrow pointing to the right. Daan decided to start with Research. As he walked down the hall, he couldn’t help but notice how dim it was and then noticed that there were no windows, this kind of creeped Daan out a bit but he pressed on. Daan came to a set of stairs that descended down, he could see light at the bottom of the long staircase. Daan descended the stairs and walked into a large lab. The lab was filled with what looked like glass cubicles, some of them had metal tables in them and the lights were very bright. Daan heard voices coming from the back of the lab and followed them. When Daan reached the back of the lab he found the source of the voices, it was some kind of Comm system.

 Daan observed the lights and screens but had no idea what the hell he was looking at. Daan heard a noise coming from the ceiling, a sort of clicking noise and the lights began to flicker and then…darkness. Daan could not see anything except for the light coming from the Comm system. He could hear mechanical sounds but had no idea what it was, then suddenly the lights were back on. Daan breathed a sigh of relief and thought now would be an excellent time to get the hell of here. As Daan made his way back to the other side of the lab where the stairs were, he sees a glass door sliding shut preventing him from reaching the stairs. Daan runs to the door but is unable to budge it. He looks to the side of the door and sees a badge scanner and swipes his card but the door does not move, he tries again and again but the door will not open.

 Daan decides to call Samantha for help but realizes that he did not pick up his phone when he left the office. He decides to walk back to the Comm system to try and use it to call for help. Daan is almost half way across the lab when he hears an automated voice make an announcement. “HAYLOC System activated”, Daan’s heart drops. He knows that HAYLOC will remove all the oxygen from the area during a fire so the fire has no fuel to continue burning. Daan begins to run towards the Comm system. As he is running the sprinkler system begins to rain down water on him. “WHAT THE FUCK”, yells Daan? Daan reaches the Comm System and begins to push the call button and starts yelling into the speaker that he is trapped in the labs and needs help, no response.

 Daan sees a button on the Comm System that reads, “EMERGENCY DOOR RELEASE”. Daan pushes the button and begins to run back toward to door by the stairs. As he run’s he notices that the water is staring to raise in the lab and continues to run towards the door. Daan can see that the door is still closed but tries to scan his badge again, still closed. Daan decides to run back to the Comm System to push the emergency release again. As Daan is heading back he notices that the water is half way up his thighs but he continues on to the Comm system. Daan pushes the button several times and heads back to the door. Daan struggles to reach the door now that the water is at his waist and he is unable to run. Dan sees that the door is still closed and tries scanning his badge again but the door remains closed.

 Daan notices that the water is now pasted his waist. Daan stops and tries to calm himself. “Breathe, don’t panic, think, think, look around”, Daan says to himself as the water continues to pour from the ceiling and rise higher around him. Daan looks into one of the labs and sees a metal table, maybe he could find a chair or something to break the glass door. Daan struggles to get into the lab but there are no chairs and the table is bolted to the floor. Daan begins to panic and breathe heavy, the water now up to his chest. Daan is unable to think and he sees the water rising higher. Daan feels a strange sensation of a very strong arm going around the center of his chest a deep but calm voice speaking in his ear saying, “It’s alright, I’ve got you, relax”.

 Daan feels himself being pulled backwards, the lab door now open and he is being pulled towards the stairs. Once outside the lab, he sees the stairs but is unable to walk, his legs are failing him. Suddenly Daan feels another strong arm on the back of his legs and being hoisted in the air. Daan feels his head lay against a powerful chest and looks up. Daan is peering into a pair of the warmest brow eyes he has ever seen, and a face that wears a 5 o’clock shadow, the man’s voice is reassuring him that he is alright. “Hey, you’re alright, stay with me, don’t close your eyes, look at me, Hey”, said the man. Daan is unable to focus any longer and feels himself being lowered down onto a soft surface. Daan hears many voices and a woman yelling, “We got to get him to the infirmary, he’s going into shock”, then darkness.